The Darkness that I Grew to Love
by Lace Ashdown
Summary: Sansa Stark had fallen in love with Joffrey Baratheon the moment she set her eyes on him. She knew she just had to marry him. Only, he wasn't exactly who she thought he was.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE:**

Sansa Stark was starting to change and she knew it. It was not even just physical change. No. It was much more than that. Her heart was changing. Lately, she was feeling darker and darker. And numb. Yes, numb to everything – almost everything. Ever since Joffrey forced her to look up at her father's head on a spear, she felt numb little by little. And every time the young King tried to humiliate her a part of her withered away. Right now she was not so sure how much of it was left but it was certainly less than she had before her engagement with Joffrey.

It did not help either that her brother, Robb, had declared war on the King for beheading their father, who was actually a confessed traitor. She was there. She knew what she heard. Her father admitted to committing a treason against the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Joffrey.

She shook her head, trying to disperse her thoughts. The darkness around her was confusing her a lot lately. Somebody once told her that to successfully tell a lie you had to believe it was the truth. That way nobody could tell what you said was a lie. It was long ago that she started to tell herself she was loyal to her beloved Joffrey and that her father was indeed a traitor. Just so she could survive Joffrey's assaults on her emotions.

Joffrey wanted to see her suffer. She had no plans letting him have the satisfaction of seeing her that way.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **This is a new project I'm working on which basically revolves almost entirely around Sansa and Joffrey. There would be sudden sneak peaks of a darker, meaner Sansa and a little lighter Joffrey. I know I've got tons of work still lined up. I'm sorry to the people I left hanging. No excuses at all. I'll update as soon as my brain lets me. In the meantime, please enjoy this. Love love xx**

 **With all the love for writing,**

 **Lace Ashdown**


	2. Broken but Prettier

**CHAPTER 1:**

When King Joffrey called for her that morning, Sansa started dreading what she would have to endure this time. It was no lie that the King obviously wanted to see her in pain. She just did not know what he had in mind. Well, it was actually not because she cared what he did. It did not matter. Joffrey would still be awful no matter what he did.

So, when she got down and saw him in court she was less than surprised that he was putting her on a makeshift trial for Robb's treason. Sansa wanted to slap herself for crying out her loyalty to Joffrey while he had his crossbow pointed at her. It was almost as if she could hear her father's disappointed sigh.

"Killing you would send your brother a message," Joffrey said as he aimed his crossbow at her.

If only she was not at the receiving end of the arrow, Sansa would have laughed at how pathetic Joffrey looked carrying a crossbow twice his size, but fear paralyzed her. She could only look down on her dress and whimper.

 _He's not going to kill you_. The voice in her head whispered.

As if on cue, Joffrey lowered his crossbow. "But my mother _insists_ on keeping you alive,"

Sansa released a sigh of relief. The voice was right after all. Joffrey commanded her to stand. She could literally feel her legs shaking as if she was going to fall any moment. It was humiliating, truly, that the entire court saw her whimpering like a small child, but there was nothing she could do. She was all alone in a foreign land with no allies, no friends, and most certainly no family.

She was about to excuse herself when Joffrey suddenly spoke.

"So… _we'll have to send a message some other way_ ,"

Ripples of goosebumps crawled up from her spine to her nape. She was stupid to think that Joffrey was letting her off the hook. The cruel king was not done with her just yet. She felt her legs giving in as she pleaded with her eyes.

It was hope against hope that Joffrey would spare her today. At the back of her head, she wondered how it was possible that a boy like Joffrey would look so beautiful on the outside but be so disgusting on the inside. It was like the Gods were playing tricks on her.

"Meryn!" Joffrey called.

Sansa held her breath unconsciously as one of the Kingsguards walked towards her. She had no idea what was about to happen but it certainly was not good – not for her, anyway.

"Leave her face," the King said just before the man hit her hard, "I like her pretty,"

Sansa doubled over, her hair falling uncomfortably on her face. It was beyond her comprehension how a knight could ever hit a lady. Knights were supposed to save the damsels in distress, were they not?

Ser Meryn hit her with his sword. She cried out in pain as she fell.

"Oh, my lady is overdressed," Despite the pain, Sansa still felt an ugly hatred towards Joffrey when she heard his voice.

Joffrey smiled. "Unburden her,"

The Kingsguard lost no time ripping her dress open. At that moment, she just asked to die. Sansa felt like she already had enough. She would just gladly die than endure being humiliated like that.

 _Too early in the game to give up, girl_. The voice whispered.

All of a sudden, Tyrion Lannister barged through the doors, walking as if he owned King's Landing. His face contorted into horror when he saw Sansa on the ground, the back of her dress shred open.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Imp demanded.

Despite her shaking form, Sansa wondered at how the small man could walk around like he had no one to fear. In fact, he also spoke like nothing could hurt him. She looked down as the Hound ripped his cloak off his armor and put it around her but she remained listening to the interesting exchange Joffrey and the Imp were having.

Her ears perked up at the mention of the word _queen_. She was longing to be a queen ever since she could remember. She wanted to be the queen, but she was not so sure if she wanted to be _his_ queen.

Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised when Lord Tyrion offered his hand to her. She took it without thinking and stood up, not caring for a while that Joffrey was glaring daggers her way. She would worry about that some other time. Right now she had to get away from everyone else.

Lord Tyrion apologized for his nephew's behavior and asked her if she wanted to end their engagement. Sansa almost screamed out 'yes' involuntarily, but then she remembered who was asking and that she wanted to be the queen.

So, just like how she rehearsed in front of her mirror, she said, "I am loyal to King Joffrey, my one, true love,"

* * *

The next few days rumors about King Joffrey spread like wildfire. Sansa heard several handmaidens talking about what he did to some girls his uncle, the Imp, sent him. The girls she heard seemed terrified. Sansa only shrugged it off. It was Joffrey's nature. Besides, she was sure she could not be more terrified of him than she was already now.

Sansa was walking in the gardens late at night when she saw Joffrey watching her from afar. She dropped her hand to her sides and did a customary curtsy, forcing herself to smile even a little. Joffrey arched an eyebrow at her, intrigued. Then, he started walking towards her. Honestly, she was tempted to run away but what good would that have done?

So, she just stared at him as he walked towards her, losing herself in a daydream where Joffrey was as kind as he was beautiful and both of their fathers were alive and everything was alright in the world. No wars, no conflicts, no–

"Are you so enamored by me that you cannot focus on both my voice and my face?"

Sansa snapped out of her trance and was shocked at the close proximity of their faces. She involuntarily stepped back, only to be stopped by the King himself. In his eyes danced dangerous mischief that was too concerning to disregard.

"I asked you a question, my lady," Joffrey whispered.

She thought he smelled like he had too much wine but she thought better than to comment on that. Instead, she tried to talk her way out of his company.

As repulsive as it was, she stepped closer to the king and smiled the best that she could. "You already know the answer to that, my King,"

Joffrey loosened his hand on her arm, an easy smile forming on his lips. He liked being praised – almost as much as he liked inflicting pain. "And that would be what, Sansa?"

Despite herself, Sansa shivered when she heard him say her name. It was way too long since somebody called her that. She longed for someone to say that again. It felt like home, felt like peace. But she did not think it would give her the same feeling should Joffrey be the one to utter her name. It still did, however. And it disgusted her. The good thing was it did not shake her as much anymore.

"That would be yes, my King. I have been smitten by you since we first met in Winterfell," she breathed.

Joffrey flashed her a full smile, something that was as rare as winter, and it winded Sansa. She did not know what it meant, which made her uneasy. He let go of her arm and lifted his hand to touch the side of her face. His fingers traced her jaw, making Sansa close her eyes.

She was not exactly sure if she was revolted by his touch or not but Sansa found herself trembling. It was like there were little sparks of lightning being left behind by his touch. She felt scorched and a little breathless. It made her gasp and automatically open her eyes.

"Do I frighten you, Sansa?"

The answer to that question was a tricky one and Sansa knew it. Should she give him the wrong answer, Joffrey would lash out on her again. Who knew what he was capable of now that there were no witnesses around them?

Joffrey snaked his arms around her into a loose embrace. She was looking to his eyes the entire time, watching for a change in demeanor but the same dangerous mischief was still there, lingering. Finally, Sansa allowed herself to get lost in another daydream and decided to tell a little of the truth.

She put her hands on his chest gently, realizing that Joffrey grew a lot over the past months, and sighed. "Sometimes you do, my King, but I know you do what you have to do in order to be a great ruler of this kingdom,"

It was always a mystery to her how would Joffrey react so it was no mistake to say that she was completely taken aback when the King lifted up her chin and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

Sansa quivered, her eyes closed, temporarily lost in a daydream she so desperately wanted to believe. When the King's lips left hers she drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes, searching for slightest amount of goodness in the man in front of her.

"You would make a fine queen," Joffrey said and then he gave her a sickening smile, "I cannot wait to break you,"

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **Tell me what you think. I'm totally just toying with this idea right now. Reviews would be great! Thank you.**

 **With all the love for writing,**

 **Lace Ashdown**


	3. The Language of the Unheard

**Chapter 2:**

 _I cannot wait to break you._

Sansa jolted up from her bed, sweating terribly and gasping for air. Ever since that encounter with the King in the gardens, she stayed away from that part of the castle as much as she could. She wanted to hit herself for being such a fool. Why would she even start to think that Joffrey Baratheon, the man who promised to spare her father's life only to go back on his word, would have any goodness in him at all?

Nevertheless, if she was going to survive Joffrey, she needed to learn how to act around him. She should be unshaken, firm and strong. She had to learn how to fake everything. It was surprising, actually, that Shae, her new handmaiden, had volunteered in helping her practice. In fact, she was even encouraging Sansa to do it. Sansa just hoped it would work out well for her, for both of their sakes.

Loud knocks on her door brought her out of her reverie in time for Shae to announce that she was to get up and prepare for Princess Myrcella's departure for Dorne. For all it was worth, Sansa did not care about the Princess' departure but Shae insisted that she was expected there.

True enough, it was her that the King sought first.

"Where is my lady?" Joffrey's voice boomed in the throne room, sending several handmaidens scattering about.

Sansa plastered on the brilliant smile she had been practicing with Shae before appearing before her betrothed. She walked – no, glided – towards the Iron Throne, leisurely taking her time. Joffrey was facing the other side of the court and was unaware of her presence. It was only after he turned his head in impatience that he finally noticed her.

"Your Grace, I am here. No need to send servants to fetch me," Sansa curtsied in the most beautiful way that she could before smiling pleasantly at the King.

Joffrey's face slightly became less irritated but he was nevertheless mad that she was not around right away. "Where were you?"

"I was only in my chambers, preparing, your Grace," she said.

The King stood up from his throne and walked towards her. Sansa was sure he was going to hit her by the speed that he was walking but she was surprised when he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Hard. And in front of the entire court. She and Shae had not discussed yet what to do in the kind of situation like this one so she just stood there, letting King Joffrey claim her lips.

They were both gasping by the time they pulled apart and possibly had the entire court blushing at their public display. Despite being confused, a giggle escaped Sansa's lips which she immediately covered with her hand.

"What was that for, your Grace?" she asked, realizing that people were staring at them.

Joffrey looked offended, "Should I have a reason to show affection for the love of my life?"

Sansa was taken aback by his sudden kindness but did not show it. "No, your Grace, you are free to do as you please," she said, smiling.

"Well then, I'd like to see my sister off now," he said, grabbing Sansa's hand and leading the way out of the Red Keep.

* * *

Queen Cersei looked like she was in the foulest of moods when Sansa saw her. It was unclear to her why the Queen would send her daughter as far away as Dorne but she thought it did not matter to her, anyway. Myrcella was kind and sweet, but being next to anyone who was related to Joffrey Baratheon would just make her skin crawl. They sent her off to the port. The Princess was crying uncontrollably, her shoulders shaking as she tried to wipe her tears in a manner a proper princess would but it was in vain. Sansa was strangely pleased that even the Royal Princess could not act accordingly all the time.

She noticed that Prince Tommen was standing near her. He was bawling like a new born baby and Sansa almost felt sorry for him. Then, she heard King Joffrey scoff beside her. Honestly, she had almost forgotten he was there, still holding her hand. Her fingers felt numb but not because the King was holding her so tightly. It was more of a matter of the mind.

King Joffrey was vexed that Tommen was crying so much in a public place. "Kings don't cry," he said.

And before Sansa could think words suddenly spilled out of her mouth.

"I saw you cry," she whispered, soft enough not to be heard.

But that was wishful thinking, because the King obviously heard her. He looked at her like she was the most disgusting thing ever and then turned his back on her, his Kingsguard in tow.

Sansa wanted to slap herself for being so stupid. Why would she dare speak to him that way? Stupid! As they started their way back to the Red Keep, she noticed the Imp, Lord Tyrion Lannister, looked a little bit uneasy. Then, he ordered the other Kingsguards to bring Prince Tommen back to the Red Keep immediately. She was tempted to ask him what was wrong but she held back her tongue. Not because she wanted to, but because her question was already answered.

People - poor, filthy, hungry-looking people - were looking disdainfully at the King. Sansa looked at them, equal parts afraid and fascinated. They were spitting out sarcastic jests at Joffrey fearlessly. The King, however, did not seem to understand their sarcasm because he was ignoring them, looking like the high-born snob that he was.

Sansa thought the townsfolk thought he did not quite understand it, too, because all of a sudden, somebody threw cowpie at Joffrey, perfectly hitting him on the face. The look of disgust on Joffrey's face made a thrill run down Sansa's spine. It suddenly became eerily quiet and she was more than half tempted to laugh then and there.

Then, Sansa remembered what she was supposed to do.

"Who threw that?" she demanded, equally surprised as the townsfolk were at the power her voice held.

There were hasty shufflings of feet above them and she knew the people were surprised she was talking.

She stood back to her full height and searched their faces, "You dare humiliate your King?"

The people were looking quite irritated at her, possibly offended that a woman spoke to them that way. She was about to cower back, but Sansa was going to be Queen and she had to start acting like one now.

The King finally gained composure from his shock. His face instantly contorted into rage. "Find who did that and bring him to me!" he yelled.

Then, all of a sudden everything was in chaos. Everyone was attacking anyone. It was terrible. Joffrey was shouting at the people. He wanted all of them dead. Some of the townsfolk had grabbed the fat priest from the shore earlier. They were pulling anything they could grab on and Sansa turned just in time to see one of them raising a torn limb over his head like some kind of trophy. She did everything she could do not to vomit.

Her handmaidens pushed her toward the Kingsguards protecting the King but it was no use. They had lost Joffrey and the others. Sansa grabbed her skirts to run away from the crowd as far as possible. She looked back at her handmaidens to see if they were coming and she sighed with relief when she saw one of them emerge from the crowd.

She continued running until somebody stepped on her skirt, causing it to rip. Sansa did not care about her torn skirt right then. She still ran but eventually ran into someone. A quick look back told her that her handmaidens were not behind her anymore and that she was alone.

Sansa looked up to the face of the man she ran into. She tried not to wince at the snarl she was given. Was he snarling at her? The man looked like he hated her to her very bones and she found that terrifying beyond anything. Then, he said something awful to her. Sansa tried to run past him but then, realized that she just ran into a dead end.

Turning back, she saw there were already three men towering over her. They looked like they wanted her dead. They did not even know her at all and yet they wanted to hurt Sansa. Desperation clawed at her. She did not want to beg but she was so scared.

"Please, don't hurt me." she was surprised her voice had sounded hoarse, like she was crying.

But the man just laughed at her. Then he shoved her on the haystack, narrating the nasty things they would do to her right there.

Sansa had wanted to cry but then she felt something in her click. If she wanted to be the Queen she should not be laying there, whimpering like a weak child. The Queen's title held more dignity than that. She looked back them suddenly, her eyes stone cold.

She did not even recognize her own voice when she said, "Lay a finger on me and I will make sure you die in a painful manner,"

The men in front of her seemed to look surprised at first and then they all laughed like it was some kind of a joke. This angered Sansa. She found herself wanting to kill them all. How dare they do this to their future Queen? She would show them how they should properly address her.

Just when she was about to stand up, a man put a blade on her throat. However, before he could even speak, he dropped down dead, a blade stuck to his own throat. Sansa looked up and saw the Hound cut the other man in half and put a sword through the other one.

Sansa did not even have the chance to speak before he lifted her off the ground and put her on his shoulder like a sack.

* * *

Almost immediately after they passed the gate, the Hound placed Sansa back on the ground and left without even bothering to steady her. As she stood there, trying to steady herself on her own, she heard the Imp's voice distantly. Honestly, she was surprised at what she was hearing.

Tyrion Lannister was lecturing the King in front of all of the people inside the Red Keep. Sansa looked around to see if anyone else was listening. Surely, she was not the only one who was eavesdropping. A small smile of strange satisfaction crept to her face when she realized nobody else was listening. Or at least they acted like they were not hearing anything at all for the sake of their King's dignity.

Sansa turned back to the King and his uncle, watching them silently. She was enjoying seeing Joffrey being lectured at by someone who was half his size. It was quite entertaining to watch. However, when the Imp raised a hand to hit the King, a strange protectiveness possessed her and made her rush to Joffrey's side.

"My lord," she said, loud enough for him to hear and to anyone else who was listening.

Tyrion Lannister dropped his hand in surprise. "Lady Stark, you're safe," he sighed, relieved.

Sansa tried to smile as pleasantly as she could. "I am. Thank you for your corcern," then she turned to Joffrey who was wiping the cowpie from his face "And I thank you, as well, Your Grace, for sending The Hound to get me,"

Joffrey looked at her irritatedly, as if he was about to slap her himself. So she tried to flatter his ego more. Just like what Shae said.

"I would have died if not for you, Your Grace. Thank you," she smiled gratefully and curtsied.

The King then looked proud, possibly prouder than he should be and stood to his full height. He towered over her now, Sansa realized. She was not exactly sure if that was a good thing.

Joffrey smirked and said. "Anything for my lady,"

To which Sansa smiled. Suddenly, a handmaiden came and excused her from them. She curtsied again and stepped to leave. However, she stopped midstep and looked back at the Imp. Sansa felt guilty at what she was about to say but if she wanted to ensure her seat beside the King, it had to be done.

"Lord Tyrion, may I ask a favor from you?" she asked.

The little lord looked astonished if anything else. It was probably strange to him that Sansa would ask for help from a Lannister, much less him.

"Of course," he replied.

"Never lay a hand on the King. It's distasteful," and then she left with a sickening smile on her face, trying hopelessly not to give away her apologetic eyes.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE** **:**

 **Reviews are very much welcome guys.**

 **With all the love for writing,**

 **Lace Ashdown**


	4. No Way Out of the Mind

The next few days had flown past without as much trouble as the day in the city had been. Joffrey had asked her a couple of times to appear in court only for the sole purpose of 'sitting prettily' - as the King would call it - as close to the throne as possible. He had been particularly less vicious towards her of the late and it surprised Sansa to the extent.

However, one time in court stood out of all the others. Sansa had been woken up by Shae, possibly more abruptly than she had to. She said the King wanted her in court immediately and wasted no time preparing her bath. Sansa waved her hand to skip taking a bath and instead, dressed hastily and decided to let her hair down this time because wearing it up took too much time. Still Shae insisted to wipe lavender oil on her arms and legs. By the time she got there, Joffrey was pacing in front of the Iron Throne, obviously irritated.

"Your Grace," she greeted him, slightly afraid he would get angry at her again.

However, her worst fear was yet to come. Almost as soon as she spoke, the King halted his pacing and faced her with a pleasant smile. Maybe a little too pleasant for Sansa's liking.

Joffrey took a step toward her and gestured for her to come closer. "You look beautiful, my lady,"

Without a second thought, Sansa stepped closer, denying the sinking feeling she was having. The King took her hand in his and entwined their fingers. His hand was surprisingly warm in her ice cold ones but if the King noticed, he did not say a thing about it.

Sansa suddenly felt eyes looking at them. So, she gazed down at the court, eyeing the people that were staring at them.

There, in the middle of them all, was a man in rags. On his skin was a mixture of dirt and dried blood that looked like a sharp thing was used to draw a map on his skin as some sort of torture. Sansa tried her best but it was hard not to gasp.

"Do you see that man, my love?" King Joffrey put his hand on the small of her back as his other hand pointed at the trembling man on the floor.

Sansa looked up at him, suddenly scared. "Yes, Your Grace," she was actually surprised her voice sounded calm and collected.

The King shifted his weight and stepped down a few steps, offering his hand for Sansa to take.

"That man," he began, after Sansa had stepped down with him, "is the man responsible for the little riot we had a few days ago. In fact, I was told that he was the one who threw shit at me,"

Sansa noticed the man's hands were chained behind him and that he was trembling in anger, not in fear. And as if to confirm her suspicion, the man looked up, his blazing eyes glaring at the two of them.

"You deserved far worse than that, _Your Grace_ ," the man spat, his words dripping with so much hatred.

She felt Joffrey stiffen beside her and suddenly she was afraid for that man's life. She thought if the man had a wife and child or an ailing mother and little sisters and brothers. She wondered if his riot was because they had nothing to eat outside the walls of the Red Keep.

Joffrey looked at her. "What do you suppose we do to this traitor, my lady?"

Sansa felt the blood from her head drain. She could not tell the King to set the man free, but executing him was not an option either. Too light a punishment would make Joffrey question her loyalty, but too grave a punishment would make her question _her_ sanity.

It was a hard decision to make but she was positive she would make the right one.

"You could have him locked up for the rest of his life, Your Grace. To set an example that no man who assaults his King shall go unpunished in your reign," she said, loud and clear.

Joffrey seemed to be satisfied with her suggestion because he smiled almost proudly at her before calling for the guards. "You heard my lady! Guards!"

Distantly, Sansa heard the clink and rustle of the guards' armors as they approached. She looked back at the man, expecting him to look grateful because he was going to live but then all she saw was anger and hatred far deeper than she could have possibly known.

Then, he looked straight at Sansa, "Your father would have been ashamed of what you have become, Sansa Sta-"

Sansa could not have been fast enough when she rushed past Joffrey and slapped the man across the face so hard that he fell on the floor.

"My father was a confessed traitor and you do not know anything of worth about me," she said with so much venom everyone in the room stepped back.

Except for the King.

She was breathing hard by the time Joffrey slid his hand into hers. The guards were grabbing the man by then but Sansa suddenly felt deprived.

With a quick look at the man, she stared at Joffrey for any signs that he could be displeased with her. But if he was, he was clearly good at not letting it show.

"My King, I might have suggested a punishment too light for this man's crimes," it was a sudden impulse but the man angered her and she would not just stand there and be disrespected in front of the entire court.

Joffrey faced her, an intrigued eyebrow cocked up. He had little specs of delight bouncing in his eyes that sent shivers up Sansa's nape. The King was clearly enjoying himself.

He smirked a little and whispered in her ear, "What would you rather be done to him, then?"

"Treason is punishable by death, isn't it, Your Grace?" she asked, her irritation at the man growing intensely. Gone were her thoughts for the man's family and his welfare. It would have done him good if those words never left his mouth.

Then suddenly, the King laughed. It was a happy, boyish laugh that indicated he was actually glad. Everyone in the court froze. And Sansa felt offended. But then, Joffrey stopped abruptly and the room got even stiller than it possibly could have.

He walked slowly towards the man in chains, looking like a lion stalking his prey. Joffrey took his sweet time staring at him as the men and women of the court watched with a mix of horror and awe. Then, he crouched down to look at the man eye to eye.

"My lady changed her mind," he finally said slyly, his voice deep.

The man glared daggers at him, no words coming out of his mouth. Sansa thought it was actually a smart thing to do. But it was too late for that.

"Do you have anything else to say?" the King asked, mocking him.

The man snarled at him and then spat at his feet. It landed on the polished floor, much to Joffrey's disgust. He stood up abruptly and walked away.

"I want his head on a spike tomorrow morning," he announced without so much as a glance back.

That night Sansa had terrible nightmares about heads on spikes and her father's disappointed voice.

* * *

One late afternoon she decided to go back to the garden where Joffrey had found her. Of course, only because she wanted to breathe in the scent of the flowers. No. Honestly she went there to clear her head. She knew there was something wrong. She just could not tell what it was. Shae said perhaps she was only exhausted and needed rest but she knew that was not it.

There was something very wrong with her thoughts. It was as if she was becoming a whole new person. A few days ago she had a guard hold a servant's hand over a fire when she found the ungrateful wench stealing a dress from her wardrobe.

By the time Joffrey had heard about it, she was already feeling terrible, almost ashamed of what she had done. But Joffrey did not mind. He seemed a bit amused, even.

The King had asked her to join him for lunch earlier this noon and while they were eating, a servant girl tripped on her short legs and accidentally stained the hem of Sansa's dress with wine.

Sansa had felt furious. The dress was a gift from her mother. The King had enjoyed watching her seethe in anger so much that he did not even bother to comment that she was only getting mad over a stupid dress.

Joffrey had asked her then, what punishment she wanted to give the girl. And she had responded so suddenly it was as if she was anticipating that very moment.

"She should be flogged, Your Grace," Sansa said, eyeing the trembling girl.

"50 lashes it is, then," Joffrey said dismissively to the guard as he dragged the girl away.

Now, the girl's pleas were echoing in Sansa's ears. The girl was younger than her, almost only a little older than her sister Arya and she could not help but doubt herself.

Perhaps she was losing her mind. The Sansa back in Winterfell would never punish someone for something they had no control of.

She suddenly shook her head.

No.

That girl perfectly had control of her actions. It was her fault for not being careful. It was her own carelessness that caused her trouble.

"Lady Sansa," someone called, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Sansa whipped around and found Tyrion Lannister behind her drinking from a goblet. She vaguely thought that she never saw the Imp after the riot until now. Might it have something to do with what she said before?

"Lord Tyrion," she greeted.

The little lord stepped towards her, carefully stepping over big rocks that might trip him. Sansa noticed a slight tremble in his hand. Was he sick?

When he got near her and spoke, she noticed there was a slight tremor in his voice, as well. "I thought you should know, that your brother Robb got married to a noble woman named Talisa and they are soon expecting a babe,"

Honestly, it caught her off guard. But no later than she realized she had covered her mouth that she put it down and blinked away the tears.

"If you are telling me this then, I suppose the King has knowledge of it, as well. I do not know what you intend in telling me so but let me tell you this, Lord Tyrion. My brother is a traitor. And I am loyal to the rightful King of Westeros,"

Perhaps Tyrion Lannister felt as surprised as she did because he had dropped his goblet, its contents spilling on the ground. Sansa felt uneasy with what she said but she knew if she was going to be the Queen, she had to be loyal to Joffrey.

Tyrion crouched down to pick up his cup and when he finally faced her again, Sansa thought he looked sincerely afraid. "I did not intend to offend you, my lady, nor question your loyalty to the crown. I apologize,"

Sansa was about to tell him there was nothing to apologize for when he spoke again. Slowly this time, his words much more carefully chosen.

"However, if you would like to send a message to your brother, I know a way,"

There was an underlying tension in his voice. It was as if he was urging Sansa to talk to her brother, like their lives depended on it. Perhaps it did. Last time she heard about her brother, he was winning battles after battles. That was when Joffrey decided to 'send' Robb a message through her. She felt a slight shiver go up her spine. She had no desire to be in that position ever again. Which was why she had to choose her own words carefully for this message, as well.

"I do have a message for him," she started, "Tell him to send back his army to the North and come to King's Landing and pledge his loyalty to King Joffrey and me,"

If Tyrion Lannister knew how to look confused, it must be what his expression meant after he heard what Sansa had to say. "Loyalty to King Joffrey and...you?"

At that, Sansa felt offended. "Was it not you who reminded Joffrey that I am to be his Queen? It's only a matter of time before that happens and if my brother is still in his little rebellion after that, I can no longer guarantee that I can save them. Will you send him that message, _my lord_?"

"Of course," Tyrion complied. After all, it was him who suggested it.

Sansa turned to leave but then she remembered that if anything, her brother was the most suspicious man. If the letter was to be written not by her hand, then she had to have some other proof that it was indeed her words written there. She glanced at the ring on her finger. It was a Stark ring which used to be her Aunt Lyanna's. Robb should be able to recognize it

She twisted it off her finger and handed it to Tyrion. "That would make your letter believable,"

Tyrion stared at it before pocketing the ring, nodding at her before he went away.

Sansa just hoped she did not make a mistake.


	5. In Her Blood

Sansa was running aimlessly in the dark. She could hear the angry screams of the mob not too far away. There was no way to see in the dark and she was so scared that she could not think properly. Suddenly there was a dark chuckle behind her. She whipped around, absolutely terrified. Was someone able to follow her there?

Then, suddenly hands grabbed her from behind and tore off her clothes. She tried to fight them off but she was weak from running. A sick feeling settled down her stomach. Somebody put a blade against her throat.

"We're going to have fun now, _my lady_ ,"

Strands of sweaty red hair stuck to Sansa's neck and she tried to brush them away as she sat up. It was only a dream. It was over. But her breath came in pants and there was a pain below her stomach, like her insides were being twisted.

She tried to get off the mattress but then she felt something warm and wet sliding between her legs. Sansa felt her heart pound with both excitement and dread as she slowly peeked under the covers. She vaguely remembered the Queen Regent saying that they were only waiting for her to be able to bear a child. When that time comes, she and Joffrey would be married as soon as possible.

Shae entered her room without so much as a knock, shocking her. The covers slipped from her fingers, stopping her from taking a look under it properly. Sansa found herself speechless as Shae discreetly but firmly said that the King _wanted_ an audience with her. She opened her mouth to say she was not feeling well but no voice came out.

Finally, Shae noticed she was not getting out of bed soon. So, she pulled the covers herself and there, they saw - both Sansa and her - a huge stain of bright red blood in between Sansa's thighs. In normal circumstances, Sansa would have noticed that Shae paled at the sight but she, herself, still seemed to recover from the surprise.

Then, as if someone snapped his fingers, Shae immediately pulled Sansa off the bed and started taking the sheets off her mattress.

"What...what are you doing?" Sansa asked, confused.

Shae stared at her sternly and then said, with that strange accent of hers, "You do not want to be married to that monster,"

Sansa held Shae's arm to stop her. "But I do,"

" _You do not_ ," Shae said with so much conviction that Sansa almost agreed.

And just as Shae was about to pull the sheets away, a servant girl suddenly came in. Everyone seemed to freeze at that point and if Sansa did not know better, she could have sworn that Shae looked almost like she was thinking how fast she could kill that girl.

Somehow, the girl must have sensed that there was something wrong because all of a sudden, she ran to the halls, positively towards the Queen Regent to report that Sansa had finally had her first blood.

* * *

That night the King had visited Sansa in her chambers. He had a celebratory expression painted on his face, and Sansa remembered her father having the same expression when he first saw Bran. It felt strange remembering her father that way but she could not help it. Joffrey really looked strangely happy that night.

"Your Grace," Sansa said, trying to rise from her bed.

But she was abruptly stopped by the King, "Oh, go on. Rest, my lady. I just wanted to see you,"

Sansa nodded, but she was already halfway up, so she just sat against the wall and stared at Joffrey's face. He was absolutely the most good-looking boy she had ever laid eyes on but he was also the most cruel person she had met. Sansa had been so used to seeing him be horrible that it felt strange that he was being kind to her now.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, sitting on the chair next to her bed.

"I-I feel better now. Thank you, Your Grace," she was surprised Joffrey asked her how she felt.

 _Why was he being so kind?_

The King reached across and held her hand. "You know what this means, do you?"

Sansa nodded, knowing well that they were about to get married soon.

"You also know that should your brother Robb refuse to pledge his loyalty to me, he would die - regardless of him being the Queen's brother," he said, gazing into her eyes.

She was trying to look for any malicious intent in his eyes that she did not realize that the King had moved closer to her now.

Joffrey tugged at her hand, slightly irritated. " _Do you understand me, Sansa?_ "

Sansa closed her eyes and nodded, "I understand, Your Grace,"

"Good," the King smiled, satisfied.

"I do have a question, Your Grace,"

"What is it?"

"Have I proven my loyalty to you yet?"

Joffrey must have been expecting a different question because he clearly seemed to be taken aback. Sansa suddenly felt like she made a terrible mistake and the King could hit her any moment now. He sighed and reached up to touch her hair. She was almost holding her breath, possibly terrified. But then, the King only smiled.

"When you marry me, you will," he said and then bid her good night.

* * *

Her first blood lasted for three days, with the last two days much less painful than the first one. On the fourth day, she was clean. Sansa felt surprisingly giddy after that ordeal. Whether it was because of her soon-to-come marriage or not, she did not know. Shae insisted not to go to court until she was at least two days clean of blood to be sure and because Sansa was feeling particularly patient, she agreed.

King Joffrey did not come to visit her after the first night but she was receiving vases and vases of flowers every day. The servants told her it was from the King but she was not so sure herself.

"Shae, would you prepare me a bath, please," Sansa said as soon as she woke up.

Today was the day she could finally go out of her chambers again. She strangely felt like a prisoner who was about to be freed. It was liberating to know that she was a woman now, finally able to be wed.

After her bath, Sansa went to the gardens. She was told the King was in meeting with the Small Council, a surprising thing to happen if she might say. Joffrey had never attended a small council meeting during his entire reign until now. It felt strange that he was acting more kingly recently but Sansa sure preferred him this way than what he was before.

She walked out of the gardens smiling to herself but when she turned to a corner, she ran into no other than Queen Cersei herself and her smile dropped. The Queen was with seven guards behind her. Suddenly, Sansa felt conscious. She was walking around by herself after all.

Queen Cersei smiled at her but it was not exactly a kind smile. The Queen never smiled at her that way. She felt the urge to back away and walk back to where she came from but it was too late. So she just stood there until the Queen came face to face with her and then curtsied.

"How are you faring, little bird?" Cersei asked, sounding more curious than concerned.

Sansa tried to smile as pleasantly as she could. She hoped it would be enough to mask her dislike for the Queen.

With a soft voice she said, "I feel better now, Your Grace. Thank you for asking,"

Cersei smiled at her and Sansa thought it looked soulless but she did not comment on it. She was about to excuse herself when the Queen asked Sansa to walk with her. She made the guards walk a few feet behind them and gently guided Sansa to fall into step with her.

"I suppose you already know what this means," Cersei said, her voice even.

Sansa felt her heart skip a beat. She was expecting this kind of talk but she was not expecting it to happen right at the moment. Her face must have betrayed what she felt because the Queen cocked an eyebrow at her as if waiting for her to say something.

"I'm going to marry Joffrey," she finally managed to say.

It was an obvious answer and it was probably not what Cersei wanted to hear because she frowned. "It's something that would have made you happy a long time ago,"

Sansa faltered behind a little. She knew she wanted to be Queen. But was she ready to be Joffrey's Queen?

And as if Cersei knew what she was thinking, the Queen Mother looked at her and said, "Joffrey has always been difficult. Even when I gave birth to him I labored for a day and a half,"

Sometime while they walking, Cersei had managed to aqcuire a cup of wine and she took a sip from it as she talked about her children. Sansa had been lost in her own thoughts, answering and asking questions occasionally, but her mind was on its own. She only snapped back to attention when the Queen said something she thought she would never say.

"You don't have to love Joffrey,"

Sansa turned to face the Queen and she gave her a look that could only be translated into surprise. But Cersei was not having any of her reactions. She took another sip from her cup and continued talking.

"I never loved Robert but I love my children. Love makes you stupid. It makes you do things you shouldn't do. You'll act the fool to keep them happy, to keep them safe. Love no one but your children."

It was a strange thing to hear - the Queen giving her advice. It would have been her mother in Cersei's place if she just had been there.

But she was not and Sansa knew if she did not do anything it would be impossible for Catelyn to be there for her anymore.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **So, I was thinking maybe I should have an exact schedule of when I would update. I decided to update this story every Saturdays so I would be more responsible in writing. Anyway, give me your thoughts on this chapter! Love love xx**

 **With all the love for writing,**

 **Lace Ashdown**


	6. Forgotten Words

Had it not been for the war, Sansa and Joffrey would have been long married. Instead, she was sitting in court, listening to the King and his acting Hand, Lord Tyrion Lannister, argue about wars and weddings.

King Joffrey wanted to marry her right away - much to Sansa's surprise - but the Imp said it was impractical because Stannis Baratheon could march right into the Red Keep any moment and it would not do them any good to be caught off-guard. Frankly, Sansa agreed with Lord Tyrion but a more selfish part of her wanted to be Queen as soon as possible so she kept her mouth shut and let the little lord reason with his King.

The exchange lasted for a good half an hour or so until the Queen Mother came and dismissed their argument for another time. By then everyone was on the edge, waiting for one of them to attack the other. After that, Sansa excused herself but Joffrey was too mad to care about her absence.

"Lady Stark."

Sansa whirled around swiftly, shivers running down her spine. Nobody else seemed to call her a Stark save from the acting Hand of the King. In long intervals since she had been the Intended of the King, she had forgotten what being a Stark in King's Landing meant. Times with the Imp was not one of those.

She plastered on a ladylike smile - one her septa taught her. "My Lord," she greeted.

Lord Tyrion Lannister was a man of his word, or so it seemed to her for the past few weeks. As promised, he managed to help Sansa send a message to Robb. Sansa knew her brother would be difficult but she was not expecting him to be extremely aggressive towards his claim in the North.

She sent three ravens since the Imp offered his help and she was nowhere near convincing her brother to lay down his sword. He was adamant with his revenge. Sansa feared it would be too late when she manages to convince him.

The little lord handed her a scroll of parchment sealed with the direwolf sigil of House Stark. "The North remembers, sister. It would do you well to remember who you are and who you are with." the scroll said.

Irritation crawled up her skin and she wanted to ball up the parchment and throw it across the hall but she composed herself, exactly like a real Queen would do. So she folded up the scroll and hid it inside her sleeve.

"Well, that certainly was not what I wanted to hear," she exhaled, facing Tyrion.

The Imp cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. "Your brother does not wish to surrender?"

Sansa shook her head. She wanted to ask him what to do but she could not bring herself to do it. And as if Tyrion could read her thoughts, he spoke to her.

"If I may speak my mind, my lady," he started.

"You may,"

Tyrion cleared his throat. "A man like your brother would very unlikely bow down to our King. After all, he was the King who ordered your father's execution,"

Sansa sent him a sharp glare. "My father was a confessed traitor. The King only did what he had to do,"

"He's your father, nevertheless," the Imp said, looking taken aback.

The young lady remained silent at that. She did not understand why Lord Tyrion was saying those words. Was he trying her loyalty? Did the Queen put him up to this? The silence lasted for a few minutes. Sansa was starting to run out of words to use to convince Robb and if she failed, then it would be the end of it.

She had no choice left. She had to talk to the King about it.

* * *

Joffrey was fuming with anger.

It was beyond his comprehension how in seven hells could his uncle answer him like that! Tyrion was speaking to him as if he was a child. He was not. He knew he was not. Not anymore at least. He had stopped being a child the moment he had Eddard Stark executed.

 _The King could do as he wished._ He thought.

That was what his father did, anyway. Robert Baratheon did not care what his people thought of him. He drank and whored himself into an early grave. Everybody said that it was an accident. Joffrey initially thought it was. He did - _until_ he heard some rumors circling around about his Father's death.

He turned to the side to look for Sansa. She was looking rather more beautiful each day and she looked beautiful especially today. She had on the dress he ordered for her. It was a golden dress, with red embroidery on edges. It was a Baratheon look and it suited her.

Joffrey found himself drowning out his uncle's voice while he stared at his betrothed. Sansa was speaking to some lady beside her. Joffrey grinned at how-

"Are you listening to me?"

He snapped back to attention and saw his mother talking to his uncle Tyrion. Somehow his mother had gotten there without him noticing and was now talking with the Imp. Then, Cersei faced him and subtly suggested to continue the discussion some other day.

Joffrey almost laughed at how his mother tried to talk him down. She thought he did not understand what was at stake. She thought he was still a child just as his uncle did. He fought the urge to put her in her place and nodded tightly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sansa exit the room.

The entire court affair had been tedious after his mother recommended to have the talk about the wedding arrangements in another time. Joffrey listened to all of the people's complaints like a good king until he could not take it anymore.

His mother said that it had to be done. He had asked her to appoint someone else to the court hearings but Cersei said that it was his duty as the King. Joffrey felt like it was a chore and he hated every single second of it. The only time that it was easier was when Sansa was there.

After a mother came to him claiming that her child was taken from her, he put the hearing to a stop. It was all too overbearing for him and it put him in a terrible mood.

"Are you alright, love?" his Mother's voice echoed behind him as he exited the throne room.

Joffrey wanted to snap at her but he tried his best to maintain his composure. He would not lose grace in front of anyone - even his own mother.  
He turned around and faced Cersei. "I'm fine, _Mother._ I just want to sleep before it's time for supper,"

The Queen Regent gave him a tight smile. "Rest well, son,"

* * *

Sansa wasted no time waiting and immediately went to the King's Chambers - no matter how unladylike it was. She was determined to lose neither her betrothal nor her family. Under no circumstances would Robb march into the city and attack the Red Keep. She would not be made to choose between the Crown and family because she would never choose one over the other.

When she told the guard posted in front of the door that she was to meet the King, it was impossible not to miss the strange look he gave her, like she was some whore he could not wait to have.

 _Look at me that way again and you will lose your eyes, ser._ She thought.

She stepped inside the room. It was gigantic - almost thrice the size of her chambers and hers was already huge. To her left was a partition for dressing; to her front was a table filled with different kinds of fruits and a bottle of wine; and to her right was the King's bed. Beside it was the King himself and a servant boy helping him undress.

Despite herself, Sansa blushed and turned around, figuring whatever she had to say could wait until Joffrey finished changing clothes, but he already saw her.

"My lady, what a surprise," he said, genuinely smiling.

It was strange to see Joffrey smiling kindly like that. And somehow it had become an instinct to her to anticipate something bad to happen whenever he looked like that.

Sansa faced the King, still blushing profusely. "I-I should come back later, Your G-Grace,"

Joffrey slapped the servant's hand away irritated. "Stop already! Do you not see my lady's distress? Out! I will call for you when I need you again,"

Sansa followed the boy with her eyes. The boy bowed with a slight tremble and dashed out of the room with his head tilted towards the floor.

"I apologize, my lady." the King said.

She turned to look at him and strangely, her eyes landed on his half-covered chest.

He approached her as he buttoned up his tunic, finally covering everything and snapping Sansa back to attention. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Uhh...y-yes, Your Grace," she swallowed, "It's about my brother, Robb."

Joffrey's face lost the mirth it had when she walked in. Instead, now she was faced with his stone hard demeanor.

He stepped towards her, their faces only inches away, "What about your traitor brother, _my lady_?"

Sansa wanted to cower back and get out but she figured she had to do this so she inhaled slowly and then exhaled.

"I had not been telling you everything, My King. Strike me if you will but please don't leave me. I'm not sure I will be able to bear it," she said.

The King's face suddenly went from stoic to murderous but it did not faze Sansa. What made her afraid was the calm in his voice when he told her to continue speaking. And then everything spilled out of her mouth - from the day she first sent a message up to the moment just before she entered his room. She spoke hurriedly, all the while watching the King for any indication that he might cast her aside after all. By the time she finished she was out of breath and dizzy and terrified.

Joffrey let out a deep sigh and turned his back at her without a word. Sansa felt her eyes sting, her conflicting emotions towards her family and Joffrey making her heart ache with pain. She sniffed as silently as she could, trying hard to keep herself from crying but her eyes were already blurry with tears. Outside she could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing to the shore and she thought the silence in the room was enough to drown her right now.

She was certain that he would send her away and end their engagement. There would be no little princes and princesses. No wedding. _No Joffrey._ Then the King faced her, his hands clasped together behind him.

"Why are you telling me this, Sansa?" Joffrey whispered, looking straight into her eyes.

Sansa thought she saw pain in his expression but it was hard to tell because her eyes could not focus from the tears. She felt him step closer to her.

"Answer me," he said silently.

She tried to blink her tears away and when she did, the first thing she saw was Joffrey's face - his strangely genuine face.

"I've come to ask you to talk to him personally, my King," Sansa finally managed to say.

Something passed across Joffrey's face and all of a sudden he grabbed her by the arm, snarling. At the back of Sansa's mind she knew what would happen. She knew what she was going to do might anger the King but she did it anyway.

"You think I would spare your traitor brother's life just because _you_ asked me to?" the King hissed.

It took everything she could do, just not to tremble under him. _This is it. This is it._ She thought, defeated. It was over between them. She was not going to be Queen after all.

A tear from her right eye fell and dropped on the King's hand. Then, her tears suddenly flowed like river. It was too much. The conflicting emotions inside her were too much. She slowly felt her entire resolve crumble in front of Joffrey.

"I'm sorry, my King," she hiccuped. "I'm sorry. Please don't discard our engagement,"

Joffrey dropped her arm. "Is that why you're weeping? Because you do not want the engagement to end?"

Sansa wiped her eyes and looked up. The king was looking at her with a new-found interest and she was suddenly nervous.

"You selfish, selfish girl," he whispered, all spite, "You just wanted the crown, not me,"

Her heart nearly dropped on the floor. "That's not true," she replied.

Sansa's mind was reeling. She was starting to lose Joffrey from her grasp and it terrified her more than anything. It was a confusing thing, what she was feeling, but all she knew was that she did not want to lose him in any way.

"You lied to me!" the King suddenly yelled, loud enough to shake the entire keep. "You told me you care for me but you only cared for yourself! Is your loyalty false, too? I suppose it is since you have been speaking to your traitor brother behind my back-"

"Because I love you and I do not want him to come charging here, going after _your_ head!" Sansa answered back.

The exchange must have taken aback both of them since they both have the similar look of surprise on their faces. Joffrey stepped even closer to her, their bodies almost touching. She was terrified he was going to hit her but she supposed it was better than being casted aside.

"What did you say?" Joffrey asked, slowly and clearly.

Sansa looked into his eyes and tried to find something that would give away what he was thinking but there were none. "I love you," she whispered, terrified he would laugh at her.

But then the King surprised her when he pulled her against him and caught her in a tight embrace.

Joffrey inhaled deeply. "Say that again," he said, sighing.

"I love you, Joffrey. I have loved you since I first laid my eyes on you. Even when you had my father executed, I loved you still. I should hate you, but I cannot," she confessed, finally realizing her words rang true.

The King let go of her. He looked at her straight in the eye. "You have no idea how much you have made me happy, my lady,"

Then he lifted her chin and kissed her full on the mouth.


	7. Little Birds Bring Ill News

King Joffrey Baratheon had agreed to ride North to meet with Robb Stark. All but in one condition. Sansa and him had to get married first. Honestly, it did not matter to Sansa whether their marriage was a condition or not. Either way, she would have happily married the King.

After their conversation, the King had pestered the Small Council non-stop for their marriage. It was the acting Hand that was telling Sansa of the happenings since Joffrey made it clear that he would handle the negotiations with the Northmen personally from that moment onwards.

Ravens were flying to and fro the King's Landing in an attempt to reach a truce with the North. It was surprising that the King was actually doing all of that. And it did not stop there. He ordered everyone to start planting crops wherever they could. It was Tyrion Lannister's suggestion that was - again - surprisingly approved by the King himself. The leftover food in the Red Keep were given to the poor and the extravagant feasts started occurring less and less.

The King was cutting back expenses to accommodate everyone's needs and soon people outside the Keep started to live happily. They were fed, clothed and protected. Life in King's Landing started to get better even in the midst of war.

Little did they know, the King was only doing it all for himself. Joffrey was advised that in order for a wedding to be possible at that time, his city had to be peaceful and loyal to him. So nobody would betray them to the enemies.

Sansa rarely saw the King, but when she did, she was always happy. Joffrey, however, had not completely changed. He was still the arrogant, self-assured, temperamental high-born that he was but only when he was at the foulest of moods.

Two moons later, King's Landing was ready to have a wedding whether in the midst of war or not.

* * *

The little boy smiled gently at her. He had fair hair and bright blue eyes. Sansa smiled back at the child, her heart warming up at how he looked like. She was almost positive that child was the most beautiful babe she had ever laid eyes on. The boy walked unsteadily towards her and Sansa was suddenly afraid for him.

He might fall. She thought.

But just as she was about to approach the child, she felt someone hold her back. She abruptly looked behind her and saw Joffrey holding her arm, his expression unreadable.

Sansa blinked slowly, temporarily not comprehending what was going on. Where exactly was she? And what was she doing there? Then she remembered everything all at once.

They were just outside the Great Sept of Baelor. It was her wedding day and she was wearing the most beautiful gown she had even seen. She and Joffrey exchanged their wedding vows not too long ago. The King looked genuinely happy the entire ceremony until Lord Varys stepped beside him and whispered in his ear.

Suddenly, Joffrey looked like he wanted to get to the Red Keep in a hurry. Sansa did not ask but she had been with him long enough to know when he was anxious. She held on his hand tightly and started looking for Lord Tyrion.

There was something very wrong. The King squeezed her hand back and guided her to their shared carriage.

"What is it, Your Grace?" she finally managed to ask.

Joffrey inhaled deeply, his face crunched into a grim expression. "It's Stannis. His fleet will arrive at our shores in a fortnight."

Sansa paled. The King was scheduled to meet the Northmen in a fortnight. Just in time for Stannis' army to attack.

"And we are certain of this?" she inquired, desperately trying to believe that there must have been a mistake.

Joffrey nodded, looking straight ahead. "Varys' little birds are never wrong,"

Then he looked at her and in the little carriage, they kissed. But Sansa felt the apology in his lips even before he said it.

"Forgive me, my Queen," Joffrey whispered against her lips, "but I must postpone the meeting with your brother to prepare for the impending attack,"

And as much as she wanted to refuse and make him ride North, away from Stannis and the war, she knew he would only do what he had to do. So she agreed.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

 **This is just a filler chapter! Sorry it's so short. Stannis is coming to King's Landing tho! Battle of Blackwater Bay in a few chapters!**

 **With all the love for writing,**

 **Lace Ashdown**


	8. The Stag and the Wolf

By the time the King and Queen got back to the Keep, it was already starting to get dark. The Small Council was waiting for them in the Court, eager to welcome the newlyweds. Sansa tried to identify all of the face in the Court, including the highlords and ladies but it was too hard to keep track of everyone.

Finally, when everyone was finished presenting their gifts, they feasted on the honor of their new Queen. Sansa had been delighted to be the center of attention. She was glad that her disturbing thoughts had stopped and that she was going back to the way she was before. With gracious words, everyone welcomed her, but deep inside her heart she knew not all of them were her friends. _Or even the King's._

As the night went on, more and more people had started bidding their goodbyes. She looked over at the King and she could tell he was exhausted, too.

So, she put her hand on his and whispered on his ear. "I suppose we should retire for the night, Your Grace,"

Joffrey snapped his head at her direction in surprise and then an easy smile slowly crept on his face. There was a time when that smile would have made Sansa shake in fear but this time it was different. This time, it was genuine.

The King stood up, successfully gaining the attention of the entire hall. He was smiling graciously, a beautiful sight to behold. The hall was suddenly still save for the music. Everyone was waiting for him to speak.

"I think it's time for the bedding ceremony," the King announced, his voice deep and huge like that of his father.

The crowd cheered and whistled and Sansa blushed like the maid that she was. She made a small yelp when the men started to carry her to their chambers. It was tradition, of course. She just wished most of them did not smell so strongly of wine.

Then, she felt a sudden sense of panic when they move towards a darker hall. Where were they taking her? What were they doing?

Sansa inclined her head to see if Joffrey was right behind her as he said he would be. A deep sigh of relief escaped from her lips when she saw his golden head bobbing from the crowd behind, the fire from the torches glinting off his stag crown.

Instinctively, she reached up her head to touch her own crown. It was so new to her, yet the weight seemed nothing. The crown was light, she supposed. Of course, that was because hers was smaller than the King's. Still, she could not shake the giddy feeling she had ever since the High Septon named her Queen.

 _It was finally real_. She thought.

Gently, the men put her down in front of the doors to their chambers. All of them kissed her hand and wished her well. She was still getting used to them calling her "Your Grace" but she liked the feeling of it. Sansa thought it suited her.

Finally, Joffrey arrived, smiling like a boy in love. She could only wish it was the truth for she still had no idea how the King felt for her.

"My Queen," he said, grinning, and kissed her hand.

"My King," she replied, curtsying.

He opened the doors for her and led her inside. As the doors closed, she saw the sliver of shadow of the guards posted on their door. Sansa noticed her knees tremble but if the King saw it, he paid it no mind.

She had never known anything about coupling. Her mother did not talk about it. The Queen Mother never mentioned it. Even her septa never told her about it. All of a sudden she felt nervous - and shy. She realized that she had no idea how to please Joffrey and it somehow frightened her.

There was no knowing when the old Joffrey would come out and she did not know what to do when he does.

They were standing in the middle of the room, the mattress just to her right. There was too much silence, she realized. But just when she was about to speak, the King kissed her on the mouth. Sansa willed herself to melt into him, and melt she did.

Joffrey probed her mouth with his tongue and despite herself, she opened her own and let him taste her. It was a different sensation, finally being man and wife compared to the way she felt when they were stil not wed. Somehow, it felt more intimate and right.

This is where she belonged. She thought. She was meant to be Queen just as her septa had told her long ago. She was going to give birth to little princes and princesses with the soft, golden hair of their father and her bright, blue eyes.

When they parted, they were both panting. Joffrey gave her an apologetic smile.

"I got a bit carried away," he confessed.

She shook her head, blushing. "You may go ahead, Your Grace,"

The King kissed her again. This time, however, he started to trail little kisses on her neck. Sansa drew her breath in. It was a strange feeling, but she liked it.

"Call me Joffrey when we are here," he whispered in her ear.

Sansa closed her eyes and shivered. There was a warmth starting to spread across her abdomen. This seemed to please the King because she felt him smile against her skin.

"I love how your skin gets flushed when you are embarrassed," he said and Sansa blushed even a deeper red.

She took hold on his shoulder to steady herself and lace by lace she felt Joffrey free her from her corset. The heavy clothing dropped on the floor with a soft thud. She had no idea when he took of his tunic but when she opened her eyes, he was already naked from the waist up.

Joffrey had the body of a man but without the ugly scars from battles. He was, after all, just nine and ten. She was tempted to run a hand across his flat stomach and his chest but the lady in Sansa tried to reel her in.

The King reached behind her and tugged at the lace that held up her skirts. With one swift motion, the entire thing slithered down, leaving her down to her undergarments. He guided her down the bed, not once breaking eye contact. He placed himself on top of her and she felt vulnerable but this time she embraced the feeling. Joffrey dipped down and kissed her again. He reached below and pulled up her undergarment up to the waist. The cold air kissed her private parts and she shivered, feeling so exposed.

Joffrey traced a thumb on her hipbone, making slow circles as he kissed the base of her throat. The warmth reached between her thighs and Sansa knew instinctively that she was ready. The King seemed to know that, as well, because suddenly, he ripped the garment off of her and shed his trousers with it.

And then, he broke her maidenhead.

* * *

Later that night, when they were both well-spent and sated, Joffrey told her of some of his troubles. She listened carefully like a dutiful wife and offered so tell some of her own stories, too.

Her head was rested on his chest as she listened to him speak. She had never been at peace as much as she was now since she got to King's Landing. And it was a welcome change.

"I cannot wait to see the heirs you will give me," the King suddenly said.

Sansa smiled. "I shall give you sons as many as you like,"

Joffrey smirked and kissed the top of her head. "I would like a daughter, as well. A daughter as beautiful as her mother,"

That night the young Queen dreamt of a little girl with bright red hair and glowing emerald eyes.

* * *

Sansa awoke to the sound of angry whispers near the door of their chambers. _Their_ chambers. The word made her smile. It had finally happened. She was finally Joffrey's. And Joffrey was hers. Best of all, she was finally Queen.

There was a mild stinging sensation between her thighs as she tried to push herself up from the bed. The event last night made her blush. She put a hand on top of her stomach and silently prayed to the old Gods and the new that she would bear an heir as soon as possible.

The young Queen craned her head to the side, curious to see who was whispering just outside the door. It was still a little dark outside, she noticed. Two figures stood huddled outside, the shadows from the flame dancing about around them. She instantly recognized Joffrey's back but the one beside him was a little more difficult to recognize. They seemed to be arguing about something Sansa could not understand.

Joffrey threw his hand in the air, seemingly irate. His hair was standing in different directions which meant that he was woken up abruptly from his sleep. Sansa wanted to make her way to the door but something inside her was telling her not to. She squinted her eyes to see the other figure better and then, almost as if a light was switched on inside her brain, it clicked to her.

The King was talking to Robert Baratheon's squire-turned-knight, Ser Lancel Lannister. She remembered the last time that she saw that man. It was when Joffrey almost had her stripped naked in court. Sansa shivered at the memory. The damn 'knight' urged the King to punish her for something she did not cause. That day, she decided that she hated him. And she still hated him now.

"Tell, my mother that we will talk about this matter in the evening. Until then, leave me be," Joffrey retorted, just loud enough for Sansa to understand.

She heard him close the door on the knight's face. She pretended to be asleep as she waited for the King to go back to bed. When he did, he did not say a thing but he put an arm over her middle and went back to sleep.

Sansa had thought about the incident over and over until she fell asleep. By the time she woke up for the second time that day, the King was already dressed and she has forgotten about the incident.


	9. Liquid Fire

The next few days the King had spent his entire mornings in Small Council meetings and the nights he spent inside their chambers, hoping to finally produce an heir. Sansa did her usual routine, reading, sewing and visiting the gardens.

There was a time when she tried to visit the poor townsfolk outside the Keep but Ser Gregor Clegane stopped her from going outside the gates. Shae told the knight that the Queen could do as she pleased but Sansa did not force her way out. She supposed she could have commanded him to accompany her but she did not try to use her newfound power as the Queen. Not at that time, at least.

On the tenth day since their marriage, Grand Maester Pycelle came to their chambers to examine her health. He said that the King commanded the Queen be healthy all the time. Sansa thought it was ridiculous but went on with the examination, anyway.

The next day, the horns of war were blown. All ladies from the court were ushered inside a hidden chamber right underneath the throne room. The Queen Mother requested Ser Meryn to accompany them inside. Still uneasy with the knight, Sansa dismissed Ser Meryn and asked for a different guard. Deep inside she hoped the Queen Mother would protest just so she could have the satisfaction of putting Cersei to her new place but the older Queen stayed put and just ordered another cup of wine.

Distantly, they could hear the clashing of swords and explosions outside. Even in the deeper parts of the Keep, they could feel the ground shake when a boulder landed. Sansa looked around her and found the ladies of the court staring back at her.

 _What would mother do?_

She inhaled deeply and then one by one she spoke to every lady in the room, gathering them into a huge circle and started praying - both to the old gods and the new. Half-way through their prayer, she heard Cersei chuckle in a low, condescending way. Sansa was slowly getting irate with her but there was no way she would show that she was cracking underneath Cersei's constant jabs at her composure. Besides, that was all what Cersei Lannister could do now. They both knew who held the real power this time.

* * *

It was a dreadful feeling, waiting for the battle to end. If somebody told her two years ago that she would be sitting underneath the Red Keep while it was being attacked, she would've laughed at that person. But now that she was in that situation it was no laughing matter. Distantly, she wondered how her husband was doing. She had experienced it first-hand that the King was certainly no swordsman. His encounter with Arya way back ensured that. Still, she prayed for his safety.

All of a sudden, there was a loud yell above them and then came a pregnant pause. An explosion erupted as the ground shook wildly with it. Dust fell from the ceiling. The women halted their prayers. Somewhere in the room, Cersei hissed at her spilled wine. A low, murmur of worried female voices blanketed the entire room. Sansa felt startled eyes on her. They were panicking, but she was not one to panic. Not her. Not anymore.

Few days after the wedding, Tyrion Lannister informed her of something about a certain explosive called wildfire. She distantly remembered the Mad King was said to use it back in the day. She also remembered how deadly and dangerous it was.

When the quakes got a little subtler, she instructed everyone to stay inside until she personally went to get them and got out of the room. The knight she called for earlier insisted that he should go with her but Sansa had put her foot down and gave him firm instructions not to leave his post. It must have been the fiery glint in her blue ice or the steel in her voice that made the guard eventually give up reasoning with her.

She rushed to the throne room and found it completely deserted. Not one man nor woman was there. Outside the doors she could hear the hard stomping of foot soldiers and with them, their horses. At the back of her mind, a small voice was screaming at her to go back to the room with the other ladies. It was stupid - going to the throne room alone, knowing that was the first place the enemies would go to once they stepped foot inside the Red Keep.

A much louder voice in her head, however, convinced her that they have won and that her husband was now marching towards the door. Surely Lord Tyrion would use that wildfire to their advantage and if wildfire was half as effective as she heard it was, then Stannis and his fleet did not stand a chance.

She walked to the Iron Throne and trailed a delicate hand on it as the stomping grew louder and louder. Sansa was tempted to sit on it just to give it a try but she remained standing beside it, her hand gripping the backrest so hard her knuckles turned white. Her heart was now beating in time with the footsteps outside as she mentally prepared herself to see her husband's face - Joffrey's face.

The huge doors swung open and by the Seven, was she shocked not to see his face in any of the men that barged into the doors.

* * *

Tywin Lannister knew battling with Stannis was suicide with just the men from the Keep. That was why he traveled all the way to the Reach and into Highgarden. He had hoped to make political arrangements between the Tyrells and Lannisters now that Renly Baratheon was out of the picture. Evidently, Lady Olenna, mother to the Lord of House Tyrell, agreed to help them win the war. Only, that was upon a certain condition. Her granddaughter, Margaery, had to be wed to King Joffrey.

The woman left a bad taste in his mouth but he agreed to her condition, nonetheless. The Stark girl can be married to some other Lannister to secure their hold in the North. Joffrey will marry Margaery.

As a battle strategist his entire life, Tywin knew that the Tyrells cemented the Crown's victory against Stannis Baratheon. He was sure of it. Just as how sure he was that the Joffrey-Margaery union was better than the one with the Starks. That was why one could only imagine his fury when he saw the Stark girl alone in the throne room, her hand placed at the back of the Iron Throne.

She looked prepared for an attack. The dress she wore was of gold with little black and white embroidery on the sleeves - the colors of Houses Baratheon and Stark. It unnerved him that she was not looking at him at all. Her eyes were scanning the crowd, her lips in a tight line. Tywin did not like the way she was holding her head up, like she was above all of them already.

"What are you doing there, child?" he said, irate.

The cheering behind him slowly died down. It was suddenly eerily silent. He spoke again. This time, with much more authority.

"You have no place there," he growled.

The girl titled her head downward and the movement caused something on her head to reflect the flames. She had her hair pinned up just like the way his daughter Cersei wore it and it made him feel uncomfortable. Things rarely made Tywin Lannister uncomfortable and he was determined not to feel that way towards this child. He stepped forward, only to be stopped by a cold, female voice.

"That's no way to speak to your Queen,"

His ears must have been playing tricks on him because he just heard this child - this small, frail child refer to herself as the Queen. He was exhausted and he had no time for games like that so he climbed a few flights of stairs all the way up to the Stark girl.

When Tywin got there, he froze midstep. He was standing two meters away from the girl but he could see it clear as day.

There, on top of her braided, flaming hair, was a crown of gold, looking almost as identical as the one Joffrey had.

She smiled sweetly at him, leaned a bit and then whispered. "You refer to me like that again, Lord Hand, and you lose half your tongue. Use the same tone as earlier again and you lose all of it,"

Then she excused herself in a very ladylike way and went out of the throne room.


	10. A King Keeps His Word So Does a Queen

Sansa had no idea she was going to say what she said. And to Tywin Lannister at that matter! Where did she find the courage to say that? Where? Had she not been Queen, her head would probably be already on top of a spike for everyone in Westeros to see. What in Seven Hells was she thinking?

Oh, her head swam for even recalling the murderous look on Tywin's face. She stopped walking and took a deep breath. Her hand gently reached for the wall for support. The stress must have taken a toll on her. After all, being the Queen of a kingdom at war was very tiresome.

She gave herself a minute and finally righted herself when the feeling ebbed away. The women and the Queen Regent was still waiting for her below. She needed to come get them. Finding her husband could wait – or so she thought.

"My wife!" an all-too-familiar voice called.

Sansa turned around feeling like a thorn was plucked out of her heart. _Thank the Gods he's alive!_

Joffrey was holding his sword in an awkward manner, looking a little wild and unfocused. Sansa noticed an arrow-less crossbow hanging from his waist. To her horror, his left side was covered in splatters of blood and his right side was smeared with something that looked like soot. She wasted no time walking and immediately ran to him.

The King dropped his sword and caught her in an embrace. "What are you doing outside?" he asked, inhaling her scent.

Sansa gently pushed on his chest to take a closer look at him. "It doesn't matter. Are you hurt, my king?"

"No, I'm fine," he said.

"But there's blood–"

"It's not mine," Joffrey cut off.

Sansa sighed at that. "Thank the Gods,"

He took hold of her arm and pulled her even closer to him. "Now, answer me, what are you doing outside? I went to the chambers you were supposed to be in but you weren't there. Why exactly did you go out?"

She knew he hadn't meant it in a threatening way but she was so relieved that she couldn't speak. All the pent up fear and worry since the attack started to bubble up her throat and sooner than she expected it, she started sobbing against the King's breastplate.

Joffrey didn't know what to do. He certainly wasn't expecting her to be reacting this way. He was simply asking her a question, wasn't he? Why did his wife cry? Did he frighten her?

"Forgive me, my Queen, did I frighten you?" he whispered as he held her close, making her feel that he wasn't angry.

Sansa shook her head. "I was terrified, _Joffrey_. I was so scared that I wasn't going to see you again. I didn't want them to take you away from me. I couldn't lose you. I just couldn't,"

It was true. Behind all the composure she had in the chamber with all the ladies of the Court, was an underlying fear for her husband's safety. She just got married. There was no way she was going to be a widow in a few days. And besides, if she was allowed to be honest with herself, the only thing that was keeping Cersei Lannister from casting her aside was Joffrey and his affections for her. She was under his protection and if he died, there was no one to protect her from anyone anymore.

The King kissed her forehead gently as he hushed her. "I'm here now. Don't weep, my love. I'm here. No one will take me away from you. Just as no one would ever take you away from me,"

* * *

Olenna Tyrell was beyond furious. The Lannisters had promised her granddaughter the Crown! That old, good-for-nothing man promised Margaery would be Queen! Did the damn lions keep their damn promises? No.

They were too stupid to do that.

She and her grandchildren were woken up early that morning to sit in Court to watch as the boy King proclaimed his grandfather Hand of the King. Loras was going to be awarded there as well. It was where they were planning to ask Joffrey to take Margaery as his betrothed. Her beautiful granddaughter had been ecstatic when she was presented the news.

They should've known they were too late.

* * *

Joffrey Baratheon hated ceremonies. Everybody knew that. But this particular ceremony, he was more than happy to comply with. He was deemed a hero and the true Protector of the Realm. He protected everyone in King's Landing from Stannis Baratheon and his fleet. And above all, he had his beloved wife sitting right beside him where she belonged.

He watched with gleaming eyes as a man atop a white stallion galloped towards him.

"I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, first of my name, the _rightful_ King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, do hereby proclaim my grandfather, Tywin Lannister, the Saviour of the City and the Hand of the King,"

A servant with a small pillow kneeled before him as the King placed the brooch on top of it. His grandfather took the brooch from the servant and bowed. "Thank you, Your Grace,"

Joffrey took a glance at his wife who was sitting to his right. She smiled lovingly at him. This made him feel even more proud as he called Petyr Baelish to step forward.

"For your good services, I declare that you shall be granted the castle of Harrenhal with all of its attendant lands and incomes to be held by your sons and grandsons from this day until the end of time."

He personally didn't like this weasel-looking man and he certainly didn't like the way he was trying to flatter him right now.

Baelish kneeled. "You honour me beyond words, Your Grace. I shall have to acquire some sons and grandsons," he said which only added to Joffrey's irritation at him.

Sansa shifted in her seat which Joffrey noticed. He should have to ask her what's wrong after the ceremony.

"Ser Loras Tyrell," he called.

The Knight of Flowers stepped forward dutifully.

"Your house has come to our aid. The whole realm is in your debt, none more so than I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it, and it shall be yours."

His mother had insisted on granting them this one favor. Joffrey had reminded her that it was their duty to protect the Capital and they did not need to be rewarded for doing their duty but it was finally Sansa who convinced him.

The Tyrell heir kneeled before him, draped in combined colors of Houses Baratheon and Tyrell. "Your grace," he started, "my sister Margaery, her husband was taken from us before–"

Joffrey raised an eyebrow at him. The knight looked like he was about to burst to tears. Distantly, he recalled rumors about him and his late Uncle Renly. Were they true?

"She remains innocent," he finally said, regaining composure, "I would ask you to find it in your heart to do us the great honour of joining our houses,"

* * *

Sansa resisted the urge to run down and strangle Loras Tyrell. Once long ago, she had swooned at him at a tourney. But now he just looked like a blabbering idiot to her. Was he seriously asking Joffrey – _her_ Joffrey to marry that sister of his? And _right in front_ of her on top of that?

She sent the knight a sharp glare but he was too busy staring up at the King to notice. She shouldn't have convinced Joffrey to grant them his favor. She should've just let the King do as he liked and not award the one house that came to their aid if she only knew they would outwardly try to undermine her marriage like they were doing now.

Joffrey remained silent for a while until he leaned down and addressed the Tyrell girl directly. "Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?"

The girl stepped forward confidently with grace as proper as a lady. "With all my heart, Your Grace," she answered, "I have come to love you from afar. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears. And those tales have taken root deep inside of me."

If looks could kill, that girl would've been dead the moment she had said the word _love_. How dare she say that in front of the Queen? Was she not aware that Joffrey and her are married? Sansa was almost trembling with rage but she did her best not to demand her head on a spike.

Several ladies of the Court gasped. Clearly, they were surprised that the Lady of Flowers was not aware of the King's marriage.

"I, too, have heard tales of your beauty and grace, but the tales do not do you justice, my lady," the King said.

Sansa swore to the old Gods and the new if that girl so much as stays in King's Landing for more than a day, it would be the last day of her life. Her dear husband would need to have some serious explaining to do tonight, as well.

Joffrey smirked. "It would be an honour to return your love, but I am already married to another. I apologize if your house has not been informed. It seemed that Stannis' forces intercepted all ravens coming to and fro King's Landing,"

The young Queen felt herself shift from glowering to beaming. Even more so when Joffrey reached for her hand and kiss the back of her palm.

"I present to you, my beautiful wife, Queen Sansa of House Stark,"

Sansa smiled proudly. It didn't matter that Joffrey tried to trick that Tyrell girl with his flattery. He still chose her. He would always choose her.

She could tell that the girl was surprised. _Really_ surprised. And well, she wasn't pleased either.

Joffrey squeezed her hand before he let it go. "However, a king must keep his word. Your brother asked for our houses to be united. There are more ways to unite our houses. If you would, you may take my younger brother, Tommen, as your betrothed."

At that Cersei immediately spoke up. "Your Grace, your brother is yet to be of age–"

"Which is why they will remain betrothed until he comes of age. Just like me and Sansa did before," the King cut off, "That is, of course, if the lady accepts,"

Joffrey looked expectantly at the girl who, as far as Sansa could tell, was clearly not pleased at the King's proposal. Who would want to be betrothed to a mewling babe? It was outrageous even to her. But she wasn't coming to this girl's rescue. No, not after she openly flirted with her husband.

"Well?" the King asked, starting to get impatient.

Finally, it was Loras Tyrell who responded. "It would be an honour, Your Grace," then, he faced Sansa, "My Queen, forgive our house for being ignorant. Please accept our apologies,"

Sansa smiled tightly. "You did no harm, Ser Loras,"

 _But I swear I will do your sister harm if she ever looks at my husband the way she did earlier._ She thought.

"It's all settled, then? You will make your vows at the Great Sept of Baelor in the morrow," the King said.

"It will be our pleasure, Your Grace," Margaery said, finally righting herself and doing a graceful curtsy.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **A jealous Sansa is a scary Sansa. What more if it's a jealous, pregnant Sansa?**

 **Review more guys! Love love xx - Lace**


	11. We are All Liars Here

"I don't see the reason why you couldn't have told us that the boy king was already married. Did it amuse you that we got humiliated before the entire court, Lord Tywin?"

The head of House Lannister was barely out of bed when a servant knocked on his door and announced the arrival of Lady Olenna Tyrell of Highgarden. He could see that the old woman was fuming with rage. Who wouldn't be? Their house looked like a damn fool proposing marriage to a married man. And it most likely gained them unfavourable impression with the younger Queen.

Tywin admitted that the Stark girl had managed to easily manipulate his grandson and the stories his servants told him about this new Queen threatened to raise the hairs on his nape. Nobody made Tywin Lannister feel anything remotely close to fear. Nobody. And it made him uncomfortable that she was able to do that.

"Well?" Lady Olenna raised an eyebrow at him, snapping him back to attention.

He cleared his throat. "I was under the same impression as you, my lady. I didn't know until the ceremony,"

The woman laughed at him incredulously, like she obviously knew he was lying to her. "Oh, you Lannisters never cease to amuse me," and then she stood up, "Well, I'd like you to know that all the men and supplies that came with us from Highgarden will also be leaving with us after the ceremony."

"You're halting all your help to the Capital? Isn't your granddaughter the betrothed of the Prince now?" he taunted.

Olenna smiled at him in a manner someone smiles to a child. "Yes, but that doesn't mean we should stay here till their wedding, does it? By the Gods, the boy looks like he just quit feeding from his mother's breasts!"

She chuckled a little and without another word, left the room.

* * *

To Sansa, the betrothal ceremony had been too extravagant. It almost rivaled her wedding day and she didn't like it. She was standing next to the Queen Regent who looked irate enough with Margaery Tyrell to be even bothered with her. Well, at least they had that in common.

Cersei was wearing a bright red gown with a golden belt clasped around her waist. From afar, it looked like she dyed it with the blood of her enemies. She had her hair pinned up in a way that made her look taller and more domineering. Her face, however, despite the obvious annoyance, looked aghast.

Sansa's gown, on the other hand, was a little subtler. It was in a shade lighter than gray but not that it was almost white. The sleeves were embroidered with golden stags on each side and it seemed to glint whenever it caught the light. She looked ethereal and poised - much like how she envisioned a queen should look.

Joffrey had commented on her dress saying that it was the color of the Starks. He insisted on changing her gown until she subdued him with a kiss and her pleading eyes.

"Why do I always let you do anything that you like?" was the only thing he said and he let her have her way.

Cersei had been too preoccupied with her possible new daughter-in-law to even notice Sansa's gown but it didn't matter, because Tywin Lannister made up for the lack of hostile looks thrown at her.

Suddenly, she felt the Queen Regent rise and leave. Only then did she realize that the ceremony was finally over. She looked around for Shae, who had been unusually less talkative since her marriage to Joffrey, but found her nowhere.

Instead, she found Petyr Baelish making his way to her. The urge to walk to the opposite direction was so strong that Sansa had to grip her hands behind her back just so she could remind herself to remain calm.

In the short time of their sort-of friendship, Lord Tyrion had managed to inform her that it was Littlefinger who encouraged her father to arrest the then Queen and her children. He sold Eddard Stark men who were already bought by the Lannisters which led ultimately to her father's death.

"Your Grace," he called, his weasel face splitting into a grin.

She nodded her head. "Lord Baelish,"

"Forgive me, but the last time we saw each other you were merely Lady Sansa Stark. I'm saddened I did not witness your wedding day,"

Sansa resisted to urge to backhand the man. Remain calm. Remain calm. She whispered to herself.

"The King was insistent on getting married as soon as possible, my lord," she responded and gently smiled even though all she wanted to do was make the guards arrest him and throw him into the dungeons.

Suddenly, she felt a hand land on the small of her back. "Dear wife, I suggest we make it back to the Keep. Lest the people go hungry because the King wasn't there to signal the start of the feast,"

She turned to her left and saw her husband. He looked like he was giving the man a death glare but his smiling lips made it difficult to actually determine his mood.

"Your Grace," Petyr bowed to Joffrey.

Calmness washed over her and she gave Littlefinger a tight smile. "It was good to see you, Lord Baelish,"

* * *

Sansa stared begrudgingly at the food in front of her. Why they had to put so much food on their table was beyond her comprehension. Joffrey had noticed her frowning and asked her what was wrong but she just shook her head and smiled. All she knew was that she was not in the best of moods - most probably due to her encounter with Baelish earlier.

She was alone in the table now. The King had stood up and went to his brother to "give brotherly advice". She didn't like that Joffrey was still tormenting his siblings even after they were already man and wife but she didn't want to talk to him about that just yet lest she anger the King.

"I pity the person who made you stare like that at the innocent lamb, Your Grace. You look like you want to stab it to death - and it's already dead!"

She snapped her head to her right and saw Ser Loras Tyrell smiling gently at her. He still looked handsome to her, but the dreamy glow he had when they first met had already vanished. If it was because of his display yesterday or something else, Sansa didn't know or care.

Sansa realized she was staring and she smiled apologetically. "Lord Tyrell,"

The noble man placed his hand on the table near her. "Just call me Loras, Your Grace. My father is Lord Tyrell,"

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Ser Loras?"

"On the contrary, I came to apologize for my mistake yesterday. Our house was kept in the dark of your marriage to the King, Your Grace. We meant no offense. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New,"

The real translation of what he said was 'We don't want to make the Queen our enemy' and Sansa knew that. She didn't know how much they knew about her but the young Queen supposed she was better off friends with the Tyrells than otherwise.

So she smiled graciously and said, "I believe you, Ser. You may take your leave,"

Right after the Knight of Flowers left, Joffrey came looking a little flushed and silly. He had a loop-sided grin hanging on his lips and his eyes seemed to have some trouble focusing. Sansa figured he must've drunk more wine than he was accustomed to.

She leaned on his chair and whispered to his ear. "My love, should we retire for the night?"

The King had instantly perked up at what she said. He stood up and raised a cup to the air. "The King and Queen shall retire for the night. Might as well work on an heir while we're at it!"

Cheers and laughs erupted from the crowd. Sansa had blushed despite herself. She didn't like how Joffrey was so open to the public about their personal life but she guessed she could work on that later on.

Joffrey took her hand and they went to their chambers hand in hand. He laughed like a silly boy all the way but he never ever let go of her. The King kept on kissing the back of her hand as they walked, with five of the Kingsguard flanking behind.

He seemed like a lovestruck boy in his druken state and Sansa found herself giggling at the silly things the King was doing like putting his head on her shoulder as they walked, hugging her from the side and twirling her around as if they were dancing. She had never seen this side of him since...well, since the event at the Kingsroad.

"I lied to them," Joffrey suddenly whispered.

Curiosity probed Sansa. ""Lied to whom, my love?"

"I lied to the Tyrells," he whispered and then giggled, "I told them that Stannis' forces must've intercepted the ravens they were sending us and the ravens we were sending them but that's not the truth,"

Sansa looked back behind them to see how far the Kingsguards were. When she was satisfied with the distance between them, she whispered back to Joffrey.

"What do you mean exactly?"

Joffrey snickered and swatted her arm lightly, "You silly girl, we were receiving their ravens just fine. Mother told me to marry the Tyrell girl instead of you before we were wed. But they didn't understand that I wanted you, nobody else,"

The King held her face. "They didn't believe that I wanted you, so I married you immediately to prove my point. But even after we were wed my mother still wanted me to marry that Margaery. She sent her cousin Lancel to come to me on our wedding night. She wanted me to cast you aside! Can you believe that? All my life, ever since I could remember, people had been drilling into me that I was to marry the daughter of Ned Stark even if I didn't want to. But now that I finally wanted to marry Sansa Stark, everyone is suddenly against it! They couldn't stop me, though." and then he laughed.

"Do you want to hear a secret, Sansa?" he asked, suddenly serious.

Sansa, who was a little confused and nervous with everything he said, couldn't think properly so she just said, "Yes," despite not being sure if she wanted to hear this secret or not.

"I felt terrible when your wolf died. I told Mother to tell your father not to kill your pet but she wouldn't listen to me. Your father was also too quick. I didn't have the chance to stop him. I'm sorry you lost Lady that night,"

She stared at Joffrey's face. They had stopped walking a while ago and now she was looking up at her husband's remorseful expression. She tried to search her mind if she ever saw him look that way but she couldn't remember if she had. This was a whole new Joffrey she was seeing and it wasn't entirely a bad thing either.

Her hand reached up and traced his jaw. "You remember her name?"

Joffrey nodded, despite his head looking unusually heavy for him. "I remember everything about you, Lady Stark,"

"Baratheon,"

"Huh?"

"I'm a Baratheon now, Joffrey. I'm your wife,"

The King smiled hazily. "That's right. You're my wife now,"

"Right. Now let's get back to our chambers, my love,"

* * *

 **I am seriously the worst online writer ever. I'm so sorry for not updating for so long. I keep forgetting, seriously. Sorryyyy - Lace xx**


	12. Hear Me Roar

The loud banging on the door irritated Joffrey to no extent. Had it not been for the painful headache he was having, the person on the other side would've been long dead. He patted Sansa's side of the bed but felt nothing. Alarm possessed him like mad and he suddenly sat up straight, looking for his wife. Only, he couldn't look for her just yet because of the sudden pounding on his head.

He raised his fist to his temple, damning the headache away but it was no use. So he laid back down on the mattress, feeling even more dizzy than when he woke up. Distantly, he heard the banging on the door stop.

"What is it?" he heard Sansa hiss. She must've woken up before him.

"The King is requested in the Small Council, Your Grace,"

"The King is...unwell. The Small Council will have to continue without him,"

"But, Your Grace, the Queen Regent specifically said that the King must attend this meeting,"

"Yes, and _the_ _Queen_ is telling you now that the King is unwell and therefore cannot attend. Either the Small Council continues this meeting without him or they will have wait until he is well,"

Joffrey suddenly felt a strange surge of anger. How dare this woman make him seem so weak that he cannot even attend a damned meeting?

Despite feeling nauseous and dizzy, he sat up from the mattress with a new found conviction to prove his wife wrong. He would not be seen as a weakling by the entire Small Council. And he most certainly would not be having a woman speak for him.

"My love," he heard Sansa speak in surprise, "I didn't realize that you were already awake,"

The King tried to look at her but the sunlight behind the Queen was too bright for him to see. So, instead, he closed his eyes and pinched the brigde of his nose, willing the dizziness away.

"I'm going to the Small Council meeting," he rasped.

Sansa approached him, concerned. "You don't have to go right now. The Small Council could wait,"

"I already said I'm going," he repeated.

His wife seemed to understand the tone of his voice. So, she stepped aside to make way for him. Good. Joffrey thought. He didn't marry a stupid girl. In fact, Sansa was smart but he would not be caught dead admitting that to her.

The Queen sat back on their bed, watching him fumble with his clothes. "Shall I send for your squire, my love?"

He furrowed his brows but nodded. A few minutes later, the King was already dressed in golden clothing that made his hair shine even more. He noticed his wife staring in awe but he paid it no mind. Something stirred in his stomach and for a moment he thought he was going to throw up but then the feeling passed after he looked away from her.

By the time the squire had finished tying his boots, his sour mood from when he woke up had already vanished and now he wanted nothing else but to snuggle next to his wife in their bed. Joffrey walked towards their canopied bed where Sansa had laid back down. Her hair was spread on the pillow, almost mixing with the color of their red satin sheets.

"I'll be back soon," he said, leaning down and kissing his wife on the forehead.

* * *

Sansa had a bad feeling about the Small Council Meeting that Joffrey went to. Cersei had been adamant that he be there, so it must be something that she wanted to convince him in. The King's confessions last night flashed back in her mind. It was a different Joffrey she witnessed. But different didn't necessarily mean bad.

"Your Grace,"

The Queen opened her eyes in a flash. She must've fallen asleep because she didn't hear when Shae opened the door. Neither did she hear it when a tub was brought into their chambers. Her eyes wandered on Shae's hands. She was holding her palm up, waiting for Sansa to pull herself up.

"Shae," Sansa breathed.

But the handmaiden ignored her surprise, "I already drew you a bath, Your Grace. Hurry, before the water gets cold,"

She was always about business, this girl. And Sansa thought she couldn't possibly find another handmaiden as good as Shae.

* * *

"We need to do something about that Stark boy as soon as possible," the Hand of the King grunted, placing his fist on the table top.

The Small Council was having its meeting in their own special function room which was only accessible by the members themselves. They were seated in an oval-shaped table, with the seat at the head of it vacant. Joffrey assumed it was his, since he was, after all, the King.

"Good to see you, Your Grace," Lord Varys greeted him, all perfumed hands and powdered face.

He nodded subtly to the entire council and sat down at the head of the table despite having a raging headache. The King felt their eyes on him as he leaned back on his chair. And if he allowed himself to be honest, it unnerved him when people looked at him like that. Like they were waiting for him to make a wrong move.

"Well?" Joffrey asked, succeeding in making his voice sound unaffected and cold. "Go on and talk about what this council needs to bloody talk about!"

His grandfather, Tywin, sighed. "Robb Stark needs to be taken care of, Your Grace," he was swirling his cup slowly and Joffrey was slightly taken aback at how similar that gesture to his mother was.

"I will not have my wife's brother killed," the King grumbled, "if that's what you want me to say, grandfather,"

He added the last part to sound smart because he was so sick of having people tiptoe around him as if he had trouble understanding what it was they really wanted to say. Sansa would've called them out immediately if she was there and they wouldn't even know what was happening until it was over.

The Queen Regent shifted from her seat, trying to reach for Joffrey's arm but he had his arms crossed across his chest so she just sat back and drank more wine.

"But, my love, Robb Stark is a traitor to the Crown. His crimes are punishable by death whether he's your wife's brother or not,"

Joffrey shot her a look. "I know that, Mother." and then he addressed the entire council, "The Queen and I had been in talks with Robb Stark. I would like to prefer it that way. Starting now, all matters relating to the North will be personally handled by me. And any disobedience from that order will be punishable by exile."

He looked around him and made a satisfied sigh. He loved how they looked so surprised with what he said. It was unpredictable and therefore it unnerved them. Sansa had whispered to him one night that he should make several unpredictable orders just to throw the Small Council off ground. She said they should never know what he was thinking because that's how other kings lost and he wouldn't want to be a losing king.

The old Grand Maester Pycelle raised a trembling, "But, Your Grace, with all due respect, perhaps the Queen's judgment is being clouded by her love for her brother-"

Joffrey cut him off with a wave. "My wife does not give out judgments, Grand Maester, I do,"

"Of course, Your Grace, but she has traitorous blood, as well, it would be wise to remem-"

"It would be wise for you to remember that she is _your_ Queen now! The Gods had deemed her worthy and loyal to the Crown and so she is. Question her loyalty again and you will lose your tongue,"

The King was seething in anger. He was not going to sit there and listen to that old man talk ill of his wife. The Grand Maester knew nothing of his wife's loyalty. In fact, he doubted if _he_ even knew loyalty for his face right now looked like he would switch sides in a heartbeat and not feel remorse for it at all

Finally, Joffrey decided he had enough of the stupid council meeting. He pushed the table away and rose from his seat. "My decision about the Starks remain the same. If anyone has problems with that, come to me personally."

And just like that he left the Small Council meeting.

* * *

Cersei was pacing in an unnatural speed. She had a drink in one hand and her skirt in the other. The Stark girl had much more influence in Joffrey than she had anticipated and as much as she hated to admit it, that fact was starting to scare her. That girl was not going to take her son away from her!

"You need to speak to your son,"

Her father's voice had sent chills up her spine. It sounded cold, detached but irate. She knew she had to do something before that girl completely corrupts her boy. And she had a feeling time was running out. The Small Council meeting the other day was a proof of that.

"Sansa Stark needs to go before we can eliminate her brother." she whispered to herself, barely audible.

There would be repercussions, she knew, if the young Queen died in the Red Keep under the care of Lannisters. Her brother would most likely march straight into the capital and try to kill them all. But it might work if they had the perfect timing.

Cersei could feel her thoughts forming on their own now, creating an elaborate plan of eliminating Sansa Stark from the picture. The Queen Regent smiled to herself.

It was time to show them who the true Queen really was.

* * *

 **Cersei is plotting something big. Joffrey wants negotiations with the North. The Tyrells are going back to Highgarden. And somewhere across the ocean, the Mother of Dragons is making a name for herself. Review lots! Love xx - Lace**


	13. Bless the Bed She Lies Upon

It had been two moons since their wedding and Sansa had never been any happier in her life. Just the other day Joffrey had given her great news about her brother. They had finally come to terms of cease fire. His uncle Jamie had been an instrument in the peace talks with the North and the King was delighted that not only would the North cease their attacks but would also bend the knee.

It would, however, come with a price. They would have to find Arya Stark within two moons and a half and return her to her rightful place in Winterfell with her family. Honestly, Sansa had no objections with the conditions his brother set. Not only was it easy, but it was also beneficial to them.

Yesterday, the King had asked her to come with him out of the palace gates and into the city. What had gotten into him was beyond her. She was squeamish about it, of course, but she decided she might as well be seen caring for the people of King's Landing than be stuck in the castle staring at birds.

Sansa remembered how hostile the people acted towards them the last time they were there. At first she felt scared but then Joffrey had asked her to come out of her carriage and ride in front of him on his stallion and she suddenly felt significantly safe, riding with the King. There had been a huge difference between the treatment they had before and the treatment they experienced now and it surprised Sansa to no extent.

For one, the townsfolk were smiling and greeting them with cheers and flowers, showering them with love and adoration. The cobblestones were also interestingly much, much cleaner than before that Sansa had been tempted to step down of the horse after the flowers she had received threatened to spill from her hands. Shae was there to gather the flowers they were giving her, of course, but there were also other handmaids following in tow.

"They love you," Sansa had whispered to the King as he helped her down.

Joffrey smiled boyishly at her, resisting the urge to kiss her lips right there and then. "As they love you," he whispered back.

The Queen shook her head, smiling. "No, my love, listen," she said, pointing upward.

"We love you King Joffrey!"

"All hail the King!"

"Thank you, Your Grace!"

The King's eyes had brightened then, shinning like a pair of priceless emeralds. He smiled and waved at them as he walked and talked to the people. Sansa thought he finally realized how much better a good, kind King would feel than a tight-fisted tyrant. She just hoped he stayed like that for a long time.

* * *

The Queen had been feeling uneasy with the stillness of King's Landing. She had been longing for this for a very long time but now that it was actually happening, she realized it made her nervous. There was always something happening within the city but for almost three moons now since the Tyrells had left the capital, it suddenly felt hollow.

Lady Olenna Tyrell had been sending her ravens as of the late, however. And she was subtly intrigued that the old woman was even bothering creating diplomatic relations with her. To be honest, the Queen of Thorns was giving her the same feeling she had with Cersei Lannister but she decided it was too early to judge the woman just yet.

Sansa picked a lemon cake from the platter that the servants had brought her this morning. She gazed down from the window of their chamber, enjoying herself watching the people start their everyday lives. There were children running around chasing each other and she suddenly found herself longing for her siblings. How simple had their lives been before her father had been made the Hand. She reached for another piece of cake from the table and was surprised that she had finished all the food that was brought up their room.

"You're with child,"

The Queen turned in a flash, surprised at the intrusion. She saw a man behind her. He looked a little older than Baelish and had greying hair. In his hands, he held a small bag of some sort. How the man was able to get past her guards was beyond her. Joffrey was not going to be happy if he found out the knights he posted to guard his wife were incompetent enough to let a mere old man get past them.

Sansa stood up, suddenly feeling unsafe. "What business do you have inside the royal chambers?"

The man curtsied. "Forgive my manners, Your Grace. I am Qyburn. The Queen Regent has sent me as a wedding gift. I am to be your personal maester,"

She then, finally noticed that the man - Qyburn - was wearing a maester's robes. However, he wasn't wearing a maester's chains.

"A maester without his chains is no maester," the Queen replied, raising an eyebrow.

Qyburn chuckled and Sansa's hands itched to throw the silver platter at the man's face. She decided immediately that she did not like this person - not one bit. The 'maester' took a step forward, his face splitting into an annoying grin.

"Indeed I have no chains, Your Grace, but I am a maester no less."

Vaguely, she remembered Maester Luwin lecturing the importance of a maester's chains. She forgot the actual importance but she was certain a maester with no chains was a maester expelled from the Order.

"They took away your chains," the Queen stated, finally realizing what it meant.

Qyburn had started to say something but Sansa held up a hand. She was just not in the mood to deal with Cersei and her strange gifts as of the moment.

"Forgive me, but my wedding happened almost three moons ago. I cannot accept a gift like that. I shall speak with the Queen Regent about this. You may go,"

And with that, Sansa got rid of the strange, strange man.

* * *

Shae came to the royal chambers a little after lunch and to be honest, Sansa had started feeling annoyed with her sudden disappearances.

"Where in seven hells were you?" the Queen swore.

Her handmaid raised an eyebrow at her, "I thought you wanted me to get you berries from the market?"

She even raised the bag of berries she had in her left hand for emphasis. Seriously, had she been in service under another person, she would've been long sent away or worse - dead. The girl had no training in the proper way of addressing a noble at all. But Sansa liked her as she was.

The Queen laughed, finally remembering her request last night. She had been craving for berries the night before but she strangely did not want them now.

"Very well. Just place them next to the table," she instructed.

Shae gently put the bag on the floor and proceeded to fix their unmade bed. Sansa continued to watch the people below them as her handmaid cleaned up behind her.

"When was the last time you bled, Your grace?" Shae suddenly asked.

The Queen looked behind her, confused. "I only bled once before my marriage to the King. I haven't bled since then,"

Her handmaid immediately dropped the corner of the sheet she was fixing and walked to her. There was an underlying nervousness in her face that unnerved Sansa. And it made her nervous just as much.

"Let me see your breasts," Shae said.

"What?" Sansa exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Shae tried to peel her arms off her. "I need to see something,"

"No!"

"Stop being stubborn for once, Your Grace,"

"Tell me the reason first,"

"I need to check them to see if you're with child,"

Sansa's eyes grew big at her words. Excited by the idea of being pregnant, she immediately pulled at the ribbon keeping her clothes together and lowered the upper part. The first reaction Shae made was a simple sigh. And then her expression switched to regret and then placid.

"Well?" the Queen probed, slightly impatient.

"Well, Your Grace, it seems as though you are indeed with child. Congratulations," but Shae's face not once looked like she was happy, instead, she looked like she was in pain.

"Are you certain?" Sansa asked, smiling.

"I have worked with many women in a brothel before. I know what a pregnant woman looks like,"

To that the Queen finally burst out laughing and twirling and giggling at the thought of finally having a child. She couldn't wait to tell Joffrey all about it. Sansa found herself wondering whether it would be a boy or girl. Something inside her wished for a girl but she knew it would please her husband more if it was a boy. Well, whatever the gender would be, she was sure to love the child no matter what.

She hugged Shae, still laughing. "That's wonderful news! I can't wait to tell the King!"

Then she made way to the door, only to be stopped by her handmaid.

"Your Grace, a moment,"

"What is it, Shae?"

"I think we should keep this between us for a while,"

Sansa turned her head to the side. "Why?"

"I have reason to believe that the Queen Regent would..." Shae paused and glanced behind Sansa, like she was nervous somebody might hear them, "not be pleased with this...development," she finally finished.

The Queen stilled at the mention of her mother-by-law. She knew she was not in the best terms with Cersei but would that hatred extend even to her grandchild? Sansa studied Shae. The handmaid looked like she was certain of what she was talking about and Sansa found herself being slightly more curious about this woman.

"Very well," she said, finally conceding, "Can I at least visit a maester, then?"

Shae suddenly looked uncomfortable. She was switching from one foot to the other. "Your Grace, will you be able to guarantee that that maester will be loyal to you?"

It was a rhetorical question, really. Sansa knew she held no real power over the people of King's Landing. What she had best was her influence on Joffrey but even that was not as much power as she was expecting. The Queen Regent still reigned and she came to realize that now.

"Are you really certain I am with child?" she asked, not answering Shae's question.

The handmaid nodded.

"Then, I will just have to trust your judgment for the time being. At least until my pregnancy is noticeable enough,"

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **Tell me what you guys think! And don't hesitate if you have questions, I'll answer them as much as I can. - Love, Lace xx**


	14. Skoros Morghot Vestri

It frustrated Sansa that she was not as powerful as she thought she would be. What use was it to be Queen only in name? None. She needed to know how to acquire strength she needed in the city and she needed to know it fast if she would want to protect herself and her child from Cersei's wrath.

A week had passed since she found out that she was with child. So far, she had not felt any difference in her body just yet, but what she noticed - and possibly everyone in court, as well - was her short patience. In the week that passed, she had already sent two servants back to their homes because of their failure to attend to her needs fast enough. Even Joffrey commented on her impatience.

On the contrary, however, she was easily delighted, as well - especially by children. One time while she was taking a stroll by the bay, a little girl, probably about five or six years old, approached her and gave her a handcrafted flower vase. It was not even that beautiful but the Queen was touched no less.

"For your chambers, Your Grace," the child had said.

Sansa had embraced the girl, and then ordered one of her guards to give her a basket of bread and fruits they had brought with them. The child cried in joy and carried the basket back home after thanking the Queen endlessly.

* * *

"Dear wife, I have news for you!" Joffrey happily yelled as he opened the door to their chambers.

She had been in bed the entire day, feeling unwell. The morning sickness was starting and she felt drained for heaving and heaving all throughout the morning.

The King was practically skipping as he approached her, waving a small parchment in his hand. "Your brother is set to arrive in King's Landing by the morrow,"

At the mention of Robb, she immediately sat up and faced her husband. She saw him smiling, the sun shining at his back.

"Is it true?" she asked, surprised.

Joffrey nodded. "They started to travel to King's Landing a moon past. Your sister, Arya, was anonymously left in an inn near Lannisport. My uncle Kevan has arranged for her travel and shall arrive here in time with your brother and mother,"

Sansa felt an urge to smack him on the arm and so she did.

"Ow!" the King exclaimed, "What was that for?"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I wanted to keep it a surprise from you," he said, rubbing his arm.

A soft smile spread on her lips, unable to keep up with her irritated act. It was rare that Joffrey would surprise her like this but it was definitely worth it.

"Thank you, my love," Sansa leaned up and kissed him on the lips which surprisingly turned a little more intimate for daytime.

The King laughed as he pulled away. "Isn't it a little too early for this?"

"Do you have other matters to attend to?" Sansa breathed as she stroked his face, trying to seduce her husband into the bed.

Joffrey leaned to her hand. "Not at the moment," he said, grinning and finally falling into the mattress with her.

* * *

Sansa woke up to someone caressing her hair. There was an arm draped around her waist and a hot breath blowing at her nape. She giggled and turned around, coming face to face with Joffrey and his tousled hair. The sky behind him was slowly turning orange and in the slight lack of light, his bright emerald eyes looked moss green, giving him a more mysterious, more masculine look. She took her hand from under the covers and tried to comb back a few strands of his hair away from his face. Only, he gently grabbed her wrist first and pecked her on the lips.

Joffrey pulled back grinning like a mischievous little kid and Sansa couldn't help but laugh at her silly husband. The sky was now starting to turn purple, the color of a fresh bruise, and Sansa found herself wanting to tell him that she was pregnant. After all, he wasn't the only one who could come up with surprises.

"My love,"

"Yes?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you,"

"What is it?"

"I-"

Suddenly, there was a loud, rapid knocking on the door, followed by a series of "Your Grace"s. Joffrey immediately rose from the bed, feeling the urgency of the matter and pulled a random pair of trousers up his waist. He gave Sansa a quick kiss on the forehead and proceeded walking to the door.

"What is it?" the King demanded.

From the bed, Sansa saw a knight standing by the door. He must have mistaken Joffrey's tone for anger because he stood frozen there, fear making it difficult for him to speak.

Joffrey grabbed a tunic draped on a chair behind the door and shrugged it on. "Well? I don't have all night. Speak up,"

The knight shot Sansa a nervous, almost apologetic glance and then cleared his throat. "Your Grace, Lord Stark has-"

"Outside. Now," the King snapped and went out of the room with him.

A shocking chill ran down her spine and in an unexplainable reason, Sansa suddenly felt like crying. She had no idea if it was joy or because of her pregnancy but she felt emotional at its worst.

She was weeping uncontrollably by the time Shae went to their chambers. The handmaid rushed to her and gave her a hug as she rubbed her back.

"It's alright. It's going to be alright. All you need to do now is be strong for the times to come," Shae whispered, shushing her.

Sansa broke away from her embrace, suddenly confused. "What do you mean? What happened?"

Shae stared back at her, equally confused. "I thought you already knew?"

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **This is just a filler chapter guys. Real action is about to get down in the next chaps. Let me know what you think in the review section! - Lace xx**


	15. The Dead Shall Remain Dead

"What are you talking about, exactly?" Sansa whispered, partly confused, partly mad.

The Queen's hair was in wild curls, making her look like a lionness. Right now she looked like a Lannister more than ever. If only she had blonde hair.

Shae tried to tame them with her hands. "Your Grace, word has reached King's Landing that-"

But then, all of a sudden, the King came barging into their chambers, a bit pale and panting. He turned to look at his wife. Sansa felt a slight tug at her chest, as if somehow she knew that her husband brought ill news.

"Leave us," Joffrey said, his face grim.

Shae curtsied and immediately left but not before she gave Sansa's hand a quick, reassuring squeeze.

The Queen wanted to ask him what happened but she did not trust her voice to deliver her speech properly. So, instead she stared into Joffrey's eyes, trying to comprehend what his grim expression was all about.

"My Queen," he breathed, "I regret to tell you this-"

At that, Sansa stood abruptly and crossed the room to take her husband's hand. "What is it? What happened?"

The King sighed, adding pressure to her already nervous heart. "Your brothers, Rickon and Bran...they're gone, my love,"

She could not believe her ears. Surely, she must've heard it wrong. Bran and Rickon were perfectly safe back in Winterfell. How could they be...dead?

"But...they're in Winterfell..." was the only thing she was able to say.

Joffrey held her against him. Her knees must've gave in at some point because now she had to hold on to his arm for support. Outside, she swore she could hear her own mother wailing and after that, the wolves howling. It was only after her husband had shushed her gently did she realize that it was her own wailing she was hearing.

* * *

That night the Queen had refused to have supper, claiming to have no appetite for the meal. Joffrey let it slip and eat alone at the dining hall, despite not wanting to eat himself. The feeling of grief was not so foreign to him, after all, because just recently, he had to mourn for his fallen father, as well. However, feeling grief over someone he had no blood relations whatsoever left him in a strange state of uneasiness.

"Dear son, are you listening?"

The King turned his head to his right where his mother sat. She was rather lively tonight, he noticed, and he was not sure he liked that very much.

"What?" he replied, obviously not listening.

Cersei leaned closer to her son's ear, dabbing her mouth with a cloth. "I asked you what shall happen to Winterfell now?"

"What do you mean?" Joffrey asked, putting his brows together.

"Well, now that Winterfell is left without a lord, I was thinking-"

"Winterfell is not without a lord, mother," he said through gritted teeth, finally understanding what the Queen Regent had wanted to say.

Cersei faced him, in full focus now, "But my love, with the death of the two lordlings, that leaves Winterfell without an heir,"

Joffrey shifted in his seat to look at his mother straight in the eye. He did not like the way she was speaking to him right now, but as his mother, he still had to inkling to show respect to the woman.

"You forget about our visitors in the morrow, mother," he said.

His mother raised an eyebrow, "Surely, the Young Wolf cannot be a lord and take the Black at the same time, can he, son?"

Joffrey sipped some wine. "Who said anything about him taking the Black?"

"Son, treason is punishable by death. It would not do well for your reign to let his little rebellion slide just because he's a brother to your wife. Our men died in their battles-"

"Are they not our men, as well?" he quipped.

There was a sudden chuckle in front of them, making the banter pause for a bit.

"Brother," Cersei spat.

"Uncle," the King nodded.

Tyrion stared at the two, seemingly enjoying himself. "You could learn a thing or two from your son, sister. He's proving to be quite a better leader than expected,"

* * *

The hallway was dark and all Sansa could see was the little flame burning at the end of the hall. She had no idea when she had woken up but now she was walking barefooted through the halls finding a way out of the darkness.

There were distant sounds coming from the galloping of horses and she wondered silently if that was Robb coming. That's right. Robb was coming today and yesterday she heard news of her other two brothers' murder.

 _Murder_.

She continued to walk through the hall, following the glowing light. Her right hand was touching the walls, carefully guiding herself. The stones were surprisingly cool to the touch, almost like Winterfell's. Slowly ever so slowly, she got to the end of the hall.

The light was coming from outside, after all. She was looking at the window before. There was a strange pounding on her chest and she felt like she shouldn't look through the window in front of her. Still, curiosity got the best of her and she tiptoed, looking through the window.

Outside, the field was illuminated by the moonlight. She was in Winterfell, she realized. It was their courtyard she was staring at right now. Maester Luwin was there with Bran and Rickon. There was some sort of argument because she could see Theon there, barking something she couldn't hear at the men behind him.

The men - Greyjoy men, she realized, for they wore the colors of House Greyjoy - started to grab her two brothers. Maester Luwin tried to stop them but he just got shoved away. Sansa's heart felt like it was going to burst. _What were they doing?_

Rickon kicked one of the men between his legs and for a short moment, he was free - until one large man hit the back of his head with the hilt of his sword. Her youngest brother lost consciousness and dropped on the ground only to be picked up like a sack of flour by one of Theon's men.

They hanged both boys at the gate of the castle, much to Sansa's fury.

"Traitor!" she tried to scream, but no voice came out.

She saw Theon bring a torch toward her brothers' wriggling bodies as they tried to breathe from the rope that their necks hung by.

 _He's going to burn them_ , she thought.

Her father's former ward lifted the fire to set the brothers aflame. There was no time. She lifted her dress and jumped off the window.

"STOP!"

Sansa sat up from her bed, sweating and shaking wildly. Joffrey had been shaking her awake for few minutes already but she wouldn't wake up. It was only when Shae went in and slapped her out of her nightmare did she sit and wake.

"How dare you strike your Queen?" Joffrey snarled.

"Did you want to wake her or not?" was Shae's fast reply.

The Queen held up a hand to make the both of them stop. She felt like was going to vomit. It was one of the worst nightmares she had ever had. Suddenly, she left like crying again. The death of her brothers were too much. She thought being the Queen meant keeping her family safe. Nobody would dare harm anybody related to her, after all.

 _Then, why did Theon Greyjoy and his entire House ransack Winterfell and murder her brothers?_

Sansa stood up, ran for the window and threw up. She sent a silent apology on whoever it fell on, but hopefully, she did not hit anybody.

"Stop crying, it's not good for your child,"

Shae was by her side in an instant, rubbing her back and collecting her hair so it would not catch any of her vomit. The handmaid gave her a cloth and she took it, wiping her face, not realizing she was already crying.

After fixing herself, she stepped away from the window. She had completely forgotten that the King was still in the room with them until he grabbed her arm and made her face him.

"Are you with child, dear wife?" he asked, his voice as silent as the wind.

Sansa looked at Shae, who immediately understood it to be her signal to go out.

"Answer me!"

"Yes."

The King looked so happy, he almost choked. "Are you certain?"

"I think so,"

"You think so?"

"I haven't exactly seen a maester about it,"

"Very well, I'll call for Grand Maester Pycelle immediately," Joffrey said, walking to the door.

The Queen ran to him, "Wait!" she called, grabbing his hand.

"What is it?"

"I think we should refrain from telling anybody else about this just yet," Sansa whispered.

"And that's because?"

She embraced Joffrey, surprising him. "I only feel safe around you," she said, carefully placing her words, "With Theon Greyjoy's betrayal of my family, it has led me to think that we cannot actually trust anybody for our safety,"

The King held her face in his hands and then he sighed. "Alright,"

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **The timeline of my story is slightly different compared to the TV series but you guys probably get it already. Anyway, this is the part where Theon betrayed Robb and captured Winterfell for himself. There will be a recapturing soon...but by whom? Tell me what you guys think! - Lace xx**


	16. In Vows We Distrust

A little before noon, after Sansa had bathed and braided her hair upwards in a way that made her look taller, the trumpets announcing the arrival of Robb Stark resonated throughout the entire King's Landing. The Queen chose to wear a dress of black and gold and King Joffrey, in an attempt to show his sympathy to the aggrieved, wore dark gray, the color of House Stark.

The two of them sat in the throne room, waiting for their guests. Word had reached them that Arya Stark had also arrived and was, in fact, on her way to the red keep.

Sansa felt nervous for some reason. Perhaps it was because the Queen Regent had blatantly worn a striking red dress or because Tywin Lannister was standing just a few feet from her left. Either way, she was uneasy, to say the least.

"Sansa," the King whispered, "Are you alright?"

But even before she had the chance to answer, a man from the hall outside came in and annouced the arrival of one Lord Robb Stark with his wife and mother and some of their men.

When her brother came through the hall, she was half expecting to see the brother she remembered back in Winterfell but Robb did not have the fun, carefree face of a boy anymore. To Sansa, his rebellion had aged him. Death had aged him. Her mother, on the other hand, looked the same as ever. She looked up at her daughter in what Sansa thought was a mixture of awe and pity. Pity for what, however, she did not know.

To her brother's left was a beautiful woman. She certainly looked like she was not from the North because her colors would have said otherwise. She was wearing a blue dress made out of a strange foreign fabric and Sansa found herself too aware of Talisa Stark's beauty, suddenly feeling too self-conscious. Her hand tentatively reached up to check whether her crown was placed properly or not but then Joffrey started to speak and she let her hand fall back onto her lap.

"Lord Stark, welcome to King's Landing!" the King greeted, breaking the silence.

Robb glared at him but kneeled, nonetheless. "Your Grace, Your Grace" he nodded towards Joffrey and then to her.

"Brother, Mother," Sansa nodded back, feeling a wee bit awkward.

The King lifted his hand up, signalling that Robb may already rise.

Cersei cleared her throat and smiled. "Welcome to our home, Lord Stark, Lady Catelyn. And where is the Lady Talisa we've been hearing about so much? Surely, she wouldn't just send her handmaiden to meet her sister-by-law," she said, gesturing towards Robb's wife.

Talisa shifted from one foot to another, obviously uneasy with the attention suddenly shifted to her. Robb stood up and shot the Queen Regent a murderous look.

"This is Lady Talisa Maegyr Stark, my wife," he said through gritted teeth.

There was a fake cough and Cersei touched her hand to her chest. "My apologies, Lady Stark, if I have offended you so. It's just that we, in King's Landing, aren't used to women dressing in such...peculiar manner, but I suppose that's simply because of our cultural differences-"

"Lord Stark, a pleasure to finally meet you," Tywin Lannister, the Hand of the King, cut in before his daughter started a fight he knew she would lose.

The Young Wolf nodded and gave him a tight smile. "The pleasure is mine, Lord Hand,"

An uneasy silence passed and some of her brother's men even shifted in their place. However, a man behind Robb stood still, his hand tracing the hilt of his sword. Sansa looked at the Kingsguards around them and she noticed them doing the same thing.

Finally, Lord Tyrion cleared his throat and spoke up. "Lord Stark, you must be tired. We have chambers prepared for you and your men,"

Sansa sat up taller, as if remembering her manners just now. "Right. I shall accompany you to your chambers in the castle, but forgive me brother, for the Red Keep can only accommodate as much. Some of the men you brought with you might have to use the vacant rooms at the barracks,"

"You are too kind, Your Grace," Robb quipped rather too tightly.

Jeffrey stood up from his throne, clapping once. "Very well, then. I believe the Queen is far more than capable of hosting our guests," he reached for Sansa's hands and rubbed them affectionately.

"I will try my best, Your Grace," the Queen smiled.

Then he stepped down from the throne and walked towards the exit hall with the Kingsguards at his trail. Sansa noticed a slight stiffness at the demeanor of her brother. Somehow, he looked aggressive in his stance, but she dismissed her thoughts, thinking it must have just been the long travel.

"Oh, and Lord Stark," the King called after he passed Robb's entourage, "The entire King's Landing sends their deepest condolences,"

The Young Wolf nodded. Joffrey turned around and walked out.

Immediately after the King had left, the Lannisters exited the throne room, as well, bringing their personal guards with them. Tyrion Lannister went to greet the Starks properly, but his warm welcome - considering the past misunderstanding between him and Catelyn - was less than wanted by the entourage. And so, he also went away as soon as he could. Sansa was left with a member of the Kingsguard, Ser Balon Swann. Other than that, she had no other protector. Not that she still needed protection from her own brother, _of course_.

The Queen guided them to their rooms, her guests not once uttering a single word on the way. Somehow, she understood their silence for she once behaved like so during her first days in the capital, as well. There was something in King's Landing that made you feel defensive, slightly nervous, even. And she knew how uneasy her brother must be, being surrounded by Lannisters whom he clashed swords with in the battlefield.

Sansa had the two rooms next to the King's Chambers prepared for her family. Of course, aside from wanting them to be as close as possible, she couldn't just let her brother out of her sight in the castle. Despite what Joffrey said about harming the Starks, she had to make sure no one would try and defy their King.

Shae, who all of a sudden appeared out of nowhere, took with her the rest of Robb's men and guided them to their rooms. It was only Catelyn, Robb and Talisa who were left in Sansa's care.

They turned towards the hall where the royal chambers were and then, Ser Balon opened the door of one of the rooms in the hall. It was originally a room for the King's first daughter but Sansa thought it unnecessary to leave it unused because their child was yet to be born.

"This would be where you and your wife will be staying in the meantime, Robb,"

The group went inside and as soon as the door closed, Robb seized the chance to grab his sister and possibly shake some sense into her.

"What are you doing, Sansa?" he asked, angrier than she had ever seen him before, "Why are you married to the man who ordered our father's death?"

Ser Balon moved to pull up his sword but the Queen held up her hand to stop him. Sansa looked at her brother's eyes. It held so much fury she momentarily wondered what happened in those battles that made him so.

"Let go of your sister, Robb," their mother said, trying to pull Sansa's arm free from his grasp.

"Lord Stark, take your hand off the Queen. Otherwise, I would be forced to make you," Ser Balon breathed.

The tension in the room rose.

Catelyn tried to push her son away, but Robb was not budging. "Talisa, talk to your husband!"

"It's alright, mother, my brother _does not_ mean me harm," Sansa said, in her best queen voice, "Stand down, Ser Balon, it's alright,"

Robb suddenly let her go and went pacing near the window. The Queen asked Ser Balon Swann to stand guard outside the door even if just so he wouldn't hear nor see what they were going to talk about.

"I just cannot understand it," her brother whispered, when all had already calmed down.

"Understand what exactly?" Sansa replied, standing in the middle of the room, looking as regal as she could be.

"You marrying that _monster_ ,"

"Watch your tongue, brother,"

"Have you forgotten what he did to our family? _To you_?"

To that, he received a look from Sansa that would've killed him, had it been a dagger. "I have forgotten nothing - including the fact that instead of getting Arya and I out of the capital, you decided to wage war against it!"

A chilling silence passed because all of them knew she was right. They could've retaliated when all of them were safe back in Winterfell, but, no. Her brother Robb got up and went to an all-out war against the throne - which he would've lost had Sansa not interfered on his behalf.

"Why have you asked us to come, Your Grace?"

The three of them - Sansa, Robb and Catelyn - turned to look at Talisa standing next to the bed. She had an uncertain look in her face and was rubbing her hand against her arm.

The Queen shook her head, "You wouldn't want to know,"

"Please save us the euphemism, Your Grace," Robb commented, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

All of a sudden Sansa felt like she had enough. She invited her family into the capital so she could protect them better but if her brother had nothing to give in return aside from his snide remarks and assaults on her marriage then, she would be glad to escort them out.

The Queen crossed her arms over her chest. "Very well, you really want to know? Your friends at the twins sold your head to my mother-by-law,"

"Walder Frey made a vow," Robb said, staring at her confidently.

Sansa laughed in spite. "Oh, just like how _you_ made a vow to marry one of his daughters?"

Her brother froze because he knew she had a point. It had never been discussed - him blatantly going back on his word - but it hung in the air of his war room like a swinging axe over their heads.

Catelyn started to say her name but Sansa's incredulous laugh cut her off. "Did you really think betraying someone like that would have no consequences whatsoever? Oh, please, big brother, you must be more conscious than that."

The Young Wolf sighed. He had no excuse at all. None that would explain his reasons. Not a single one.

Sansa moved to step out of the room. She had drained all of her energy explaining herself to these people who were supposed to be her family. The reunion she was expecting was somewhere along the lines of maybe mourning the loss of her two brothers but there she was, being bombarded with accusing questions left and right.

"Take a rest for the day. Food will be sent up to this room for this noon but supper shall be taken with the King tonight,"

Then, she grabbed the door handle and exited the room.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **It was a long hiatus - I know. And just like Robb, I have no excuse at all. Sorry for not updating for so long. So as an apology, this chapter was over 1,900 words. Hope you liked it ~ Lace xx**


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